Page 1, A fetish comes in many forms.

The art museum, was her favorite place

With her hand; the statues she would trace

The doctors told her it was a “Plastic love”

Her official diagnosis; fit her like a glove

Statues, mannequins and immobility

The objects of her fetish; in her reality

They never moved under her caress

Her passions, hidden beneath her dress

The cold smooth feel or bronze or stone

Overwhelmed her, and made her groan

She liked to touch them, when alone

She wanted her sexual arousal, unknown

Her most erotic fetish; just inside the door

A Spanish dancer she always wanted to explore

“Do not touch” read the sign upon the bust

Very stimulating; empowering her lust

She waited, until almost closing time

The room was empty, the pickings prime

Kissing and fondling the marble stone

She suddenly realized, she was not alone

The sculptor of the bust stood there

Of her fetish, he was now full aware

Come, I have a perfect man for you

Complete with bronze phallus; tis true

© Copyright 2013Sultry Alice All rights reserved. Sultry Alice has granted theNextBigWriter, LLC non-exclusive rights to display this work on Booksie.com.