All Things Being Equal

 

the foot of midnight
leans into the armpit of high moon
strolling, extolling and
caressing marinated fleshy mounds
sitting on the psychedelic loveseat

therefore . . . the tale is told
on goddess-sized foundations
in various stages of covering for the body
the nudes smile the smile
which say they have nothing to hide
whereas the dressed yaps a lot
trying to conceal sins hidden beneath clothing
every day or so they change places
with each other
the nudes become dressed
and the . . .
ah, but you're hip, you "get it"

ultimately the end justifies everything