I still dream to quiver rich, And we still tremble poor. Over, under, Madam and Bitch, To each, her John Does floor. Grieved cliche to ban the kiss, And yet we all refuse. To add one name onto our lists, Of cants, and don'ts, and dudes. Unuttered sighs of uncriticized law, Polished flesh covering strong, well members. Real grins and moans, matching fair new bras, Sweet nights with long, full slumbers. In which we lie in thoughts like these, The things we once deserved. Homes, and love, own families, Now, far, and wrong, absurd. Once done, now blue and black with lace. Yes Sir it was my fault. The suck, the chew, my class and taste? My only taste is salt.