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.