Hadn’t we, bathed in sun, with bare torsos
Then I, wasn’t man, nor she, woman
Until, shame sprang, on sin’s stilletoes
When, she too joined, the feminine clan!

What she, bred beyond, the brink, of her bra
Was it substance, pride, prejudice, of her being!
Fear of, stigma, or, faith’s enigma
“Don’t flaunt, fruits of sin” felt, worth agreeing!

Now a, distant star, of the, cine-verse
They call her, “Big Bounty, of Bazaar”
Big hips, lips, bust, brought, Big commerce
When that, petite girl, found her, Big bold avatar!

She’s all, sin now, not a soul, anymore
On Big-screen, her plastic being, manifests
How a girl, lost to, grandeur’s metaphor
Since, She Slipped, Into Her, Silicone Breasts!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra