Obverse side

The coins of disappointment  
always landing on its edge
the supermaket isle those depths of sin I dredge
 
The normal wake of humanity  
they poke and prod the Veg
but I hear the click of a stiletto heel an expensive wedge
 
The catwalk holds no candle
imaculate the makeup, the diva touch of class
an open top Mecedes parked in a disabled space
 
For that shopping trip no list  
a mobile phone to facebook as she picks
distain of each selection for her larder contains all the best bits
 
Curvature of her buttocks with slender legs beneth
hote coture of flesh devined of statues carved in ancient times
french nickers those tempations barely hide
 
Warm skin to touch and kiss  those delicious buttresses
to bite and tease and hear her squeal
the champagne and romance that two for one great deal
 
Evidence was clear her trolly needed filling up
how could this delacacy be bought
the bar code of her desires and thoughts
 
Would that red carpet Babe let me spoon her hidden depths
but contactless teasing was just style over substance
out of date confection hides hard bitten innocence  
 
the oberse side shows the monarchs head
the other side is reversed  the point at which I cursed
the coin I tossed into the air just landed on its edge