On your throne,
legs crossed,
feminine fire,
open bar tonight,
look through me,
and show
my eyes
the mistress
of
night’s inadequate
tempting.

On your throne,
queen of queens,
keeper of the king,
crowned with a sigh,
breathy,
slave of youth
with the will of
a wanton gypsy.

On your throne,
I am your subject,
I have nowhere else
I want to serve.