Her hips were made to swing.
They moved with a certain sashay motion,
While her feet fit into spike heels, smoothly.

As surely as those fire engine nails slid into her
Kid leather gloves.


Although parts of her anatomy were imperfect
Her movements were unmistakable
Sending out messages that no one could misinterpret

 

" You make up for your lack of décolleté  with je ne sais quoi "

Said her French professor


Who had first hand knowledge
Of her infrastructure

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