Ode to the Breasts

Of all the sights in all the lands,

I think the choicest are thy mammary glands,

So soft yet firm, so warm and smooth,

I become a child as their textures soothe.

Delicately as a watchmaker, my quivering hands

Inch ever closer to thy blesséd mammary glands,

And with a gentle and loving tiny squeeze

My head explodes, and I slip between with ease.

I doubt that anybody quite understands

This passion of mine for thy mammary glands,

Which make of me a bumbling fool, a jester,

As I rush home and dive straight for thy chest.– Er,

Let me regain composure, steer away from that rack

That, when receiving my loving, always gives some back.

I don't know, I've written an ode to just about everything else. Enjoy!

Thanks!

• Giovanni

Written December 9th, 2003 © 16 years ago, Giovanni Dania