Curves in the bloom

Sarswati stands, wild and free,
In her denim shorts, teasing me.
Her thighs on display, so smooth, so tight,
The curves of her ass, a perfect sight.

The flowers may bloom, but they don’t compare,
To the way her body moves in the air.
Each step she takes, those hips that sway,
Got me lost, in every way.

Her shorts ride high, showing skin,
Thick thighs that beg for a playful sin.
She leans into the flowers, her back arched just right,
Her ass so perfect, firm and tight.

The sun shines down, but it’s her that glows,
From her legs to her curves, everything flows.
Those hips, those thighs, that teasing glance,
She’s got me in a trance, a dangerous dance.

With every move, she owns the day,
Her body calling me, leading the way.
The flowers may be bright, but they don’t compare,
To Sarswati’s wild beauty, beyond compare