Hotsy Totsy, who do you think you are

and who do you think you’re fooling?

You carry torches in your eyes

silken your erotic thighs

with books read from cover to cover.

Aloof to the boot

you shield the space

behind your face

with soul as the force you believe in.

Your heart is an open book

you wrote the book of love

cliffs notes in the margins

writing proverbs as eye-openers

attendant to carnal knowledge.

You mince and you prance

design your dance

in renegade slithering motion.

Hot down and humid, in through the timid,

done before the timer goes off

your F stands for ultimate

curvaceous desire

enigma fire

girl barrell with shapely legs

and a magic beg

hip sling wild thing, passionate flower,

love treasure bower

ecstasy bandit, tough stuff

female is you.

But, that thing that you do

is a dead giveaway

you are obviously hotsy totsy.