Her pencil skirt is lit with slit,
Topnotch, she is the ace.
And somewhere deep, a little bit,
She flashes with the lace.
Her legs, her thighs, her smoky eyes,
No word can be a flatter.
The magic cut goes really high,
Reveals a tender pattern.
Stiletto heels are made of steel,
She wears a see-through blouse.
She is a breeze in utter still,
The one who rocks the house.
Her face, her lips and shapely hips
Are all of special kind.
And next to her one couldn’t keep
Control of soul and mind.
Her lines are fine and serve the curves,
The message she is sending,
Her perfect self no one deserves,
Yet she is condescending.