Her arm bare under my hand.
I have no command
And shee
Is not Of me.

I wonder does she understand
The fact
Of her impact
On men?

When she
Laughs it is with me
(But with others to)
So I know
That it can not be true.

Does she
See through me
As we walk
And talk?

Yet there is no
Harm in enjoying the charm
Of a soft, bare arm
Of a girl who happened to be free
And offered it to me.