A dance of seductive perfection
Echoing spikes meeting a hard world
The attired dancer
Arousing impure thought
A guarantee of carnal pleasure
Strutting, not of pride, probably from habit
Free advertisement of product
Destined to sell... for a fee
Pay to play as they say
The taste of passion echoing crisp paper
A practiced duet of pleasure
each pitch, breath and sigh
A synchronism of the flesh
For time has become a living
And to waste it squanders the dream...
The dream... of getting out!
To where who knows or cares, just... out!
And the actress prepares for the next take
Dreamily creasing a mask battered by life
Echoing spikes meet an unyielding world
And the dance begins once more