*~inside the suit~*
"her lips of sanguine tint...eyes of wildfire..."
feron sings aloud to the strumming in his raspy hack of a voice
he paused to grab pen, paper, and cigarette
tools of the trade
he scratched the words down with enthusiasm
tess just shook her head
she didn't even raise an eye from the book she hid in
'the secrets of money management'
tools of the trade
tess didn't want the bohemian life
she had upscale uptown upper crust dreams
the ambition to see them happen
but her libido held her down
it drew her to the lower regions of life
downtown downtime down the street
musicians and poets
they were the only one's who could cull her desire
she could argue profit and loss projections
on the 18th floor
with the 3-piece suit sharks
men with bmw's and gold cards
but at night it was the stoned philosophers
with scooters and four star vocabularies
that she took home
feron liked to undress her
peel away the layers of her corporate existance
until she stood naked for him
he knew how to play her body and mind
but he would never keep her
tess would move on
she would marry well
she would catch herself an armani stiff
who would buy tiffany's out for her
they would build a bank account
a family of promise
but it would be the memories of the songwriters
who used her as their muse
that would keep her going
her body would always betray her
would always lead her back
to the men who saw beyond the briefcase
who could take the yuppie and make her howl for more
tonight she would be the sanguine goddess
tonight she would let her body win
but tommorow the walls would rejoin
and she'd be on her way