Your tactile eyes running over glossy paper

Printed on with tactile lies of glaze and gauze

They say "forget yourself, adorn with this disguise"

This womanhood of smooth and tampered whores

Let me warn you of their cold sensitivity

They'll have you gathered in a trap of glass

Is your reflection all the you will recognise?

That cruel lie will stare you in the face

Wrapped up in a haze and flow of bridal gown

They tell your lover he must hold a gun

You're the pornographic reassurance he's a man

They deal with flesh, incarcerate with rags

Red lips, shimmer-silk and body-bags

Hairless legs against the blistered napalm burn

I want to rape the substance of your downy hair

In that mist a gutted child fights for air

Against the fragile, mashed and sweaty wound

Your facile beauty has an outrageous sound

Like a glamour billboard on a battlefield

At least the blood red poppy was of natures will

That flower perfecting by the barbed wire fence

Must be insulted by your scented poor pretence

Just as I, who finds it hard to touch you now

You traumatise my love with needle doubts

I want so gently to remove your mask

It's hard enough to find water here

In this barrenness of dishonesty and fear

Without you accepting poison in a pretty pill

Your bondages of silk robes and lace

Are the bandages on a bullet punctured corpse

The layers of precious imitation worn

Are the layers of history that suffocates the unborn