Hillside flower

She's sixteen
So
Pristine
And wanton.
We walked to the hillside
Overlooking the town
And she sat down
Beside me.
Perfume-full
Was her breast,
We sat and were covered
And she asked if we should
And I said
Yes we could.
Yes.
Her hair,
Blonde and tangled,
Was in my eyes,
Flouncing,
Yes.
And her flower dress,
So thin to the touch,
Half-covered the
Bouncing,
Yes.
The grass was high
Around us,
A rather fortunate
Covering,
And her arms all around me,
Marking my back,
Grasping my head,
Smothering,
Yes.
The sun was high and
Yes
I told her,
Yes I will,
Before the shower
I'll come with you
My hillside flower,
Yes.