Swimsuits under siege



Are supposedly a shame
The rapturousness of my shape is to blame
Your stupid cannot be called naive
My good looks are suspended on a spine stubbornly brave
Nauseatingly, you judge modesty by my pose
Forever the shrill of your voice excused as an overdose
My legs bask vivaciously as they speak to the sand
For god’s sake, choke that maniacal rant
black and beauty, sea and sanity can seamlessly align
broken record , your opinion pitch is a whine
Swan like my neck rises caressingly above my breasts
I gave you no permission to declare a moral debate-fest
Curled in my recline, radiant in love
Unabashed grace , no wetsuit or kid gloves
Enveloped in salt water spray, allure of nature in an orgy

reverence strikes, my siesta aborted

I witness being abducted into depraved dress code theories


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