Because temptation is stupid--society doesn't help--and I'm an honest fool.

This is my ode of farewell,
Not because I don’t want It,
But simply because I’ve had enough.
Oh, Society, you’ve stripped It bare,
Laid It out for all to see,
And that was your biggest mistake, dear me.
Although I flocked to It’s allure
Because It called and oh It pulled,
It wasn’t what I thought It’d be.
The stories make It better,
In the language and the words,
With hearts intertwined and hands grasping and clutching,
And ring-bound souls so sure, so sure.
It wasn’t shaved, It wasn’t smooth
But It was real, and It was raw;
It was better, It was pure.
And I've found that’s what I want.
You can record, you can film,
You can sing your inviting ballad.
Go on.
Paint your pictures, entice my skin.
Envelope my senses in this temptation of voyeur.
Write the novels, make me writhe.
Try, try, but I will now deny
And draw my sword and hold it high.
Dear Devil, I’m done.
Here I cry my Alamo
And draw the final line.
Here I make the Fucking Dare
That I will stand idle, paused for just The One.
(And Dearest Lord in Heaven--
Make him worth the wait.)

The End

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