Ring

Treading
tingles with rose blush
Revealed: no tipping corset wielding,
Or semblance of blue romance,
This hard vein of vanity proudly small.

My semblance of passion, of mistake
Left by Lady Lore, not ever a miss;
Pursed lips, withdrawn further
Will empty just the same.

It was made to be there, thin promise,
Pursuing the notion (just slip it in)
To catch old Folly next door!
Such youth, we are reminded.