Day IV

Fourth day it was,
“Progress day”, let’s say.
Now she opened her frock,
Offering a front view.
Revealing her breasts.

Stares increased,
Hunger increased…

Rest I leave for those,
Who like to imagine things.
I,as a woman, fail as a poet.
I can not describe her posture, then.

Though I have words,
They aren’t coming to the nip of my pen.
Offering hints, I can never do that.
I either say things, matter-of-factly,
Or never utter them, at all.
This, hence, has to be a trouble,
For your brain.
Understand my agony
And forgive me for your pain.

—————-

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