Doing Exactly What Those Without Souls Intend Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

She saw a mansion and became a whore.
And couldn't wait to service the 'master'...
In the basement behind closed doors.

She was right in her element.
Doing exactly what those without souls intend,
To do to circumvent...
Anything that connected to a wholesomeness.

Or faithfulness practiced that was never meant,
To a husband who waited outside...
Pretending not to be bothered by driving this floozy home!