With tornadic force, I strip her day job to the floor,
And rip the seams of her burden of social graces,
I pound away at a life that has withered to a chore,
I change the tempo of her mundane paces.
I carve away the plastic smile that others have fashioned,
I bend and break the shrink-wrapped package that she wears,
And bleed feeling from her heart that she has carefully rationed,
I theatrically expose the mental distress she alone bares.
I crush on her what the world has left sore and aching,
And her voice strains with fervent Pentecostal screams,
I ravish the soul she hides, we both revel in its taking.
Remade and reforged by the model set by our dreams.
