Frustration

Look at me!
What do you see?
A deadpan liar
That blows smoke?

Won't you toke
This face of wood
That cages fire
Yet burns within?

Aren't I good
To hide my sin
Of hot desire
That smoke makes free
To be read
Not but subconsciously?

Won't you break
This role of fake
And follow my gait
With soft-falling feet
To the land of discreet?

Or do you wait
For me to take?

Perhaps my ring
Is your big joke,
To seductively sing
With bouncing curves
That coil the spring
Until it's broke!

Any whim I'll serve
For one last stoke....