Skin like leather dissolves into hot slippery
steam as she envelopes the married men, all of them,
in her strident wantonness, encircling their
hopeless fidelity with smooth fingers
and silky skin, rupturing their resolve, turning
yearning into unchecked lust and forgotten commitments.
The men inside this dark swarm of smoke and whiskey
count themselves family men—good providers with a
single weakness, an affinity for flesh and passion
on the outer fringe of decency and desire that mixes
with a seething brew of prurient observation—who enjoy
an occasional vacation from reality around a stripper pole.
