My tears wetter then the space
Between my thighs
Thighs? Thigh high?
Thigh high like the
Socks I wear to feel
Nice.
Nice like the grown men staring
At my thighs
Oh to feel high to not care
And only feel air
A pleasurable moment I say
As hyper sexuality tears
I always end the day with the same wetness between my thighs.
With tears rolling down from my eyes.