Staged

The bed is her stage
She sings sensual lullabies to non-conform
Spotlight’s on for the graceful nymphomaniac
It’s time to thrill with her audaciousness to perform

Dressing down is dressing up
Behold! The pins come out one by one
As they drop, the hair and the rest
He smiles as he’s seamlessly outdone

The sheets - her props
Four wooden posters - her poles
Handcuffs don’t arrest her
When vision seeps through the satin blindfold

She brings a little bit of herself
A little bit pretension
She only wanted to break his shackles
Of years of being held back by pitiful hesitation

She threw her head back and laughed
When she realized some things she mistakenly transpired
He had already found solace in his jail term
He was just a man who chanced upon what he never desired

The act had to draw curtains now
See her disappear backstage then rushing through the exit
Wondering if he’d ever request an encore.
He’d never be able to read what’s in her heart
Even when she turns back for one last tormenting look
And this becomes one for the books.