Haughty appeal gleams from her body,
Stirring the carnal imagination,
Searing the flushing blood.
She has a face of culture,
Painted perfect and thick,
A pearl of regret and lonely lust,
Pining for that throbbing thrust,
To vacantly end past loss,
And stop the pressure of father time,
In a moment's escapist heat,
Within the night's hot shell,
Dripping thick with sanctuary.