My Frida shirt

Turquoise silky cotton.

Bouquet flower blossom.

Fridas luxious red lips.

My Frida shirt dangling gently on rose petal hips.

Plump moist attraction.


Not too big nor too thin.

Soft touch on my skin.

Fridas statement monobrow magic.

My Frida shirt slave to my sin.

Oh what glorious fabric.

A quintessential affection.


Iconic lover of life, paint, art and flowers.

Lay rigid, unmoving, wretched long hours.

Fridas story well known. A tassle of life. A passionate tango.

Enscribed in fine lines, a portrait, a mango.

Marylou tells me she's jealous.

My Frida shirt chosen without zealous.

Certainly no haste, nor a moment of waste.


Swooped up in my arms.

A falcon with charms.

Twas love at first sight.

My Frida shirt dancing, an awesome delight.

Intrinsically you, Intrinsically me.


Mexican icon graciously share her.

Impassioned lover of Diego Rivera.

Fridas bobble red earrings frame delicate lobes.

My Frida shirt vibes of retro funloving clothes.

Bliss for the eye, blissfully I.


Fairy floss pastels.

Fridas flower entre.

Unbuttoning rascals.

My Frida shirt slips away.

Indiscreetly true, Indiscreet was I.


My Frida shirt, although just a shirt.

Let's not mention my Frida skirt.

Fridas face sings through soft silky fabric.

Put them together I'm a Frida tragic...

No. That's not it. I'm a Frida maverick.

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