She sits with her legs out,
reading a book
spread wide in her lap
and the gap between
Her downturned face, her eyes
absorbed, you wonder what's
made her mind so keen
You can't even see if she's
wearing a thing down there:
just legs,
just waist,
with a book
to serve skirt, shorts
or any such
purposes
so intense
and brief underneath
that book. So you look
at her top - what!
She's got another book up there!
Held outward, pages facing
you.
She looks up, sees
you. Her eyes say
come read
Actually,
you can't read.
She's wearing sunglasses
shaped not like books,
but daisies.
In fact, you're pretty sure
this is Elton John. Wait
no,
no
maybe not
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