Improper and Imperfect

The tales that he told were quite improper:
They left her cheeks so bright, he saw them shine
From every vulgar word, he spoke to stop her
In her tracks; he surely could divine
Exactly how to undermine her faith
And how to fathom what would then replace
Her loss of countenance, so that the wraith -
All she had once held true - would never grace
Her future landscape, where he’d dominate
Misgivings and imaginings he’d picked
And mixed to show the wench how very great
His powers were and how he could inflict
Improper ends on all perfect beginnings,
That made her shine with this imperfect sinning.