Half a paean

A white t-shirt, cotton, tight, is pulled down just below her hips, stretched tighter by her thighs, spread just wide enough for her feet to land a few inches wider than shoulder-width, a few inches wider than seems natural, as if she’s spreading them for a reason, thoughtfully, deliberately.

Beneath the shirt, opaque black leggings, form-fitting. Her thighs part, quickly, into an upside-down “V.”

Her legs are curvy, muscular. I can’t help but imagine my hands gripping them tightly, my fingers tracing them lightly.

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