Her red dress stretched across the remembered small of her dear bare back, bare for me no more, That once so softly bent itself in bed to take my thrusts and then my stunned caress, Disclosing to my sated gaze a film of down, of sheen, upon the dulcet skin - Her red dress stretched , I say as carapace Upon her tasty flesh, she shows a face Her ass, its solemn cleft; her breasts, their tips As tender in color as the milk-white bit Above the pubic curls; her eyes like pits of warmth in the tousled light; all forfeit, and locked in antarctic ice by this bitch. Disclosing to my sated gaze a film of down, of sheen, upon the dulcet skin Her red dress stretched , I say as carapace Upon her tasty flesh, she shows a face of stone and ice!