Seeking them out so adamantly
Driven by the midnights heat
Each foolish time she dares to believe
That they’ll wait on her hands
And bow to her feet
She’ll give them a little
They’ll give her a lot
She’ll take up occupation
In their hearts and thoughts
She’ll talk to them in a way
They haven’t talked in a while
She’ll tell them some things
That make them smile
And show their ***** teeth
As they rush to reply
Chasing ***** images
In their disgusting minds
It’s not the money
It’s not the bags
It’s the fact that she pleases them
Like no one else can
All of them
Like the rings on her hands
Like the manicured tips
Like the golden china fans
One by one
They drop like flies
As she becomes bored
How annoyingly dry
Their humor is awful
Misogynst and objective
And so she moves on
Identity protected
A silent killer
A thief in the night
She's not his lover
She's not his wife