The Heavenly Touch

White, as a floating cloud

Soft, as a bloated feather

Standing out in a fleeting crowd

Are the breasts of a woman of heather

Dressed by nipples like olives

Covered by nature's caramel coloured guards

You'd want to die in them

The moment you press your lips on the rim

It would be hard to resist 

The urge to suck the nectar from their fruit

But as you draw your self closer

Everything else would seem like a blur

Nothing has been designed to contain them

But the clasp of your palm

They define truly, cream-de- la-cream

And don't deserve to remain hidden

As you lay your head in the valley of hills

Heaven seems like a possible refuge

As she throws her bra in a thrill

You'd be amazed to see her breasts so nude

When she walks

They bounce on her every move

You'd wish to see them through her shirt

And find it hard to clear your mind's dirt

She knows they are watching

She knows them are young and perky

She wouldn't be surprised if she caught you masturbating,

Thinking of her, unclothed and lurky

The biggest sins of all

Is when you get to cress them in your bare hands

For her, you shall fall immediately

Like a meteor from starry bands

Nothing after the touch

Feels soft and real

You'd lock yourself with her reminiscence in a hutch

And close your eyes to see her naked and surreal

Ah! The heavenly touch

Ah! The heavenly touch..

Them carved on a feminine figure

You cant get just enough

Them crafted perfectly to give you a trigger

Ah! the heavenly touch

Ah! The heavenly touch..

Makes your senses moan like its your first

How can you ever get enough?

From the breasts that were designed for your lust