Pimples On Her Nipples

She glouted...
And I stared.
She laid
With pimples on her nipples.
I asked if they were dimples?
She became offended.
As if I had requested
To touch each one.
I didn't.
Infact I admired how they were exposed.
And she gathered herself and plopped down
To another location...
Beached!
She was the one who chose to switch and bounce.
It was understood...
The cellulite she carried was all hers.
She made sure the Sun and eye popping done,
Captured her parade!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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