Hook(er)ed

She's a working girl, a partner paid;
her body's a tool, a badge of her trade
Mother Nature made it plus some work in the gym,
a healthy diet and a tasteful silicon trim.

Yes, yes, yes, I know

she's a mercenary Venus in love's dirty war
Cash in hand and happy endings
that's all she's fighting for,
and sex for money is just sex as a chore;
She'll do me like she scratches an itch
but I'm a fool for her sales pitch.

Look at her:

Enhanced breasts that drive gravity mad
abs toned up like a dial pad
making little billowed squares like sails on a ship,
each lean arm with a vein like a whip;
Tall racer filly legs floor to waist,
Long and lanky, almost awkwardly spaced
so each one steals the other's grace as she walks,
and she might trip and fall at each pace,
but of course she doesn't
despite the heels.

Her face framed in golden tresses,
a rebel angel smile which both charms and aggresses,
Messes up your moral reasoning real quick
And the eyes of Eden's Eve which play the old serpent's trick:

Believe me, knowledge is just love in disguise,
truth is falsehood dressed up in lies
just as pretty as I am, they say,
and you want knowledge and me in just the same way.

Okay?
No pressure, no ties.
Come on darling, make yourself wise.