He whispers such deceitful, lusty lies:
Who needs the truth from such manipulation?
If he commands, will she obey? Who tries
To follow each and every stipulation?
Who moans and cries and dreams and hopes and prays
That each mendacious moment has due cause?
Will he permit her to perform these plays?
And, through these games, will she gain his encores?
Showing accord and chanting symphonies,
She'd give him pause, through pleading she'd employ
To thank him, thoroughly, just as she'd please
Him more, so as to earn fresh bouts of joy;
But, once she's given all, one wonders just
How much she recalls whispered lies to lust?
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