up on the stage a tenor, Nessun Dorma
the set a modern wonder, Turandot
if I could but remember the performer...
remembering the flowers I forgot
remembering the frigid intermission
the spent champagne and chocolates on a plate
you made excuses, needing no permission
lust, mixing in with guilt; bell says we're late
no longer a duet, more a parlante
each part distinct, but sticking to the script
our rendezvous a scandal, in flagrante
devoid of feeling, naked, bare and stripped
a wanton thrust, a breathless, heaving bosom
no, not at all a coupling, more a sting
the minimum required for a twosome
up on the stage, the lady starts to sing
Author notes: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turandot https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWc7vYjgnTs image from a Turandot Set at the Metropolitan Opera
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