The couch

I pick up the paper on the floor
for you to look at my legs.
I lean down to hand the salt over
for you to see my breast.
I lie on the couch and stretch
for you to steal a look
at some of my thighs.
I close my eyes and lure you
into telling my legs,
my breast, my thighs.
They are in the right place,
and belong to the woman
you love.