A Modern Aphrodite

What beaut more fair, than the debonair,

Of the woman that I love,

In the musky air, her flowing hair,

Her breast, that of a dove,

The darkened scene, The smoky shene,

Alcohol not for rub,

My foggy mind, cannot decide,

If her beauty all for naught,

This lurid place, a dark charade,

She's left me here to rot,

They call this club, A Woman's Love,

The very thing it is hiding,

The stripper's name, her call to fame,

A Modern Aphrodite