You hold your knife and fork like this,
working from the outside in,
naturally.
You sit like this,
legs neatly crossed
and you speak about appropriate things
like the theatre
or your favourite rioja.
You definitely don't talk about sex
or money
and heaven forbid you should say "fuck".
You articulate conversation,
making sure not to offend
and everything appears charming.
Oh yes,
you fulfill all
the little requirements
and perform superbly.
But behind closed doors
when night comes
and the sky is still,
I'll smile at you with painted parted lips
and you'll go all the way down.
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