Flavia

If you cook with gas, turn the flame up, make sure there’s a blast, face like a stone, it’s the way you love, beats going alone, never one to entrap, like a chicken plucked, you won’t flail and collapse, who call you the most, then roll in the muck, stay at their bedposts, they drink wine aghast, say they’re out of luck, too tired for holy Mass, tell them to go home, consider them fluff, picking at your soul, let them earn a buck.