Little Red Ride Poem by Bree Z Love

My red dress
wraps just right;
around the curves.
My mother imparted to possess,
my essence of femininity, wrap tight.
Upholding lessons of loves.
My red dress catches eyes,
as it flows; high.
As, we ride.
My thighs caught each vibration.
This ride's engine hums translations
into the winds, forcing flirtation.
Your hand gripping masters full control.
While you hit the lick of a Tail Grab Stoppie, We Roll.