- Erotic Poetry
- Shoe Tits
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Shoe Tits
"But she sells shoes!" he vainly spews.
"And you sell false dreams," I humbly quash.
Daft is he,
the decider of soles,
based on the fit and color
of what idiot's think.
"Said shoe,"
he exclaims,
"of such simple design
can't possibly afford ease
to one of your mettle."
"You fool,"
I reply.
"One must examine the leather,
the textured detail,
the tattered effort,
the denied opportunity,
and life cutting dreams,
that embody the shoe."
She's more than a gal
who offers shoe cleavage.
Shoes are what she does,
not what she is."
I say ye world,
judge not my Queen of the upper,
my Diva of sole,
my Venus of leather,
my sensual usurper,
by the tit of her shoe."
She's so much more
than a simple server
of shoe cleavage
with nice tits."
So much more,
so much more...
*******
Okay, I admit it. The gal who sold me my baby blue Converse hightops was HOT!
Teeheehee
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