Please, don’t look at me with those drunk eyes
And ask me to kiss those stained lips.
Your lovely lure is gone someplace; it hides
While you pretend yourself with ignorant quips.
I will not hold you, reeking, below me
Nor think you any quicker or untightened.
But I will not wade through, sinking, your show. See,
I have better ways betters ways to let a night end.
You lie in your present state,
What you present is not yourself.
You lie and I resent, I hate,
That you ferment and need my help.
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