She dons her satin negligee
The one of purest cream
The back cut low, above her hips
A 1940's dream

Spaghetti straps attached to lace
That barely drape her breast
The gown that flows like liguid
Harboring the rest

She dabs a little perfume on
‘Passion' at her throat
Down her ample cleavage
On each wrist, she adds a note

Her make up still intact
She brushes through her hair
Flaming red, like fire
Bring out her green eyes, there

Her toenails painted cherry red
Scented oil she now applies
Her feet and ankles, calves and knees
Then finally her thighs

She rests a cheek on shoulder bare
With dreams now in her head
Another dreadful night alone
She climbs into her bed

She wishes she had someone
To lie beside, to keep
To lavish all her love upon
She cries herself to sleep