Beneath the uniform, hidden breasts, a shining treasure, Her bosom, boldly exposed, sways invitingly, Crying out, “Behold the breasts!” she lures with a smile.
She patrols the town, her ample rear in full view, With each sway, she upholds order, bringing peace anew, Her derrière, a symbol of pride in the uniform she wears true.
She dances in the dark, her ample rear her blade, Silencing foes with a sway, into the night she fades, Her derrière, a silent anthem of the assassin’s trade.
Blindfolded, she steps out, her chest captivating all, Gathering astonished gazes as she strolls the mall, Her bosom’s liberty, painting the town’s new protocol.