barefoot rhapsody

[ftlaudft]

"I saw him walking barefoot in the street"
was my last poem about the joy of feet.
But then I wrote a footsy fetish sonnet.
You might just find it's got your footprint on it!

Here's a thought.

The balls are a barometer
that measures love's embraces.
The dick is love's thermometer
when stuck in certain places.

But when I rank the body parts
to find the most sublime,
though some may call them shoddy parts,
the feet win every time!