Thursday 21 August 2014

They are just breasts

" They are just breasts" he said with a smirk, running his insolent fingers through his hair. " Meant to be attained and felt" he added with conscience.
The level of disgust and offence filled vexation in my eyes.

" Oh! they are just breasts that define and mark my femininity, uplift my morals and reverence at one point of time and then degraded and deduced to a level of aversion and loath by men like you. They are just objects of voluptuousness, sensualism , maybe luscious to some- but oh! they are just breasts and it's a pity you don't have any for the kind of swindled courtesy they possess is quite overwhelming. They are just breasts that breed lust, virility- a licentious craving; blamed are they for the arousal of the noble and blamed are they for the arousal of the unknown. Faulty and blemished, they are worthy of censure and condemnation for a subject of ecclesiastical conclusions they have been, no denying. But they are just upholding and sustaining perverted opprobrium. Sad, they are just breasts, so desired yet abused. Deceived of love they are grounded in fact. Alas! they are reckoned as " Just breasts". 

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