I saw your G-string, ride up your behind
When your skirt flew up in the breeze.
And right then and there, I knew you would be mine,
As I saw it hiding in your crease.
I saw your G-string when you bent down,
To pick up a quarter, you saw on the ground.
A big beautiful moon, in broad daylight,
A G-string up your cheeks, what a lovely sight.
I wanted to tell you bend over again,
But I think I'll just take you home.
Then you can bend over again and again,
But only after we are alone.
Don Juan Tenorio
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem