A Gorgeous Little Strap

Her black bra strap
Visible beneath the thin material
Of her top
Settled upon her upper arm.

I struggled
To ignore it.
I made a valiant effort
To divert my attention.
Really…
I tried.

I failed.

My eyes continued
To lock upon that loose
Bra strap.

My wayward mind
Drifted
Far from its proper mooring.

Her soft breast rested
Within the cup
That had lost support
Because of her slipping
Bra strap.

How amazing is a breast!
It nurtures babies
And excites men.
A breast is symbolic of
Motherhood
And the very expression
Of female sexuality.
But my base nature reduces
A breast
Even further
And I shocked myself
In the thoughts I entertained
Should that breast
Be given to my pleasure.

My eyes hungrily fixed
Upon her loose bra strap.

But she put her jacket on
Turned toward the door
And left.

I made a conscious effort to shake my head
As though to dislodge the thought
From my mind.

I embarrassed myself.

I did not even know her.
I am so glad no one saw
My wayward thoughts
Or could read my mind.

I’m a better man than this.
I don’t objectify women
Or use them for my lustful imaginings.
When I find myself diverted
I lecture myself
Scold myself
Re-educate my imagination.

But, Lord
Wasn’t it
A gorgeous little strap?