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Call-Girl

Swaying like a pendulum,
She flirts with the passers by-
Her silence speaks herself,
She is a betroth liar-
She is a hermit.
Her figure gloats gluttony,
Like a fish in an aquarium,
Gyrating all around the crystal,
Never satisfied-
But she is never thirsty.
She can sleep with you,
If you persist-
She will substitute, 
Your pet dog-
You have to pay against her fur.
All she wants is money,
She swallows -
Like a vending machine,
Like the condom machine,
That works in my other poem.
Written by anandosen
Published
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