In refined gloss
irritants can never be seductive
what graces fools
who drinks venom in melody
and prances in
sightless rhythms in fantasies
of charmless unwashed
contemptible that run the blood cold
nay matter the hues
or size or fetching or otherwise
tell who desires
a soulless hollow in witless trance
who craves *******
when my self worth knows avidly
my truth and my real worth
I hanker not for counterfeit or fools gold
irritants are irritants
afore condemned in acts and gross deeds
not worth a cent
in my head or thoughts much less my *****