Skirt and trouser muffle, ruffle together,
Arrogantly with each, diseminating –
Information crumble together to the eye
That saw nothing – like nidity is bad –
Incorrectly fit into is loose; exposition came.
The girl bent, flashing the wast naked
Product schorching emotional
Truma in vain are the arteries
That quarrel – with each letch, pigsty.
The boy squat, stoop, see, conquer not,
That this bra is a talking drum – the skirt
Isn’t innocent than her thigh.
What the breast couldn’t see is –
Obvious to the eyes – of the
Body unsacred mosqued into the church.
That after all long clothe the thigh isn’t
Covered. The privy isn’t counsel –
Into the tradition of decency is corrupt.
When sacred remain not silent
To the world on scene; boys watch
The girls being dramatized on top.
It is the body that suffer the garbage,
Littering all forms of inner wear.
(In memory to Mohammad Ali’s advice to his pretty daughters)