beulah never knew how to win with grace
so all of g-d's hard lessons became pearls cast upon swine
and she gave up the love of her life to feel right
but found only the unhallowed and full feeling of wrong
when she blessed herself at night she did not heed matthew's advice
and once more g-d's wisdom became pearls cast upon swine
but he just sighed and forgave her again

adrian called himself jezebel and haunted me in dreams
he wore a skirt and contorted his face into a new norm
never was it his fault, i've learned, but he gave me the blame
so i shook in a bathtub where i was sparsely clothed in bubbles
and i slept through class as the wicked boy behind me snickered
but upon waking, i was hardly phased.
did you hear that, adrian?!
i'm hardly phased!!

beulah bound a kiss to her lover's lips
then she left him for another
only to discover that the other's arms were never meant for her
so she spends her time now concerned with possibilities
and the unfortunate opportunities she chose
instead of the hard work she wishes she would've endured
even as she peels the orange, it bleeds in her hand
stinging the cuts that serve as the paycheck for her hard work
and reminding her why she passed up regret,
picking out a second serving of worry instead

beulah never knew that staunch was a relative term
but she was reassured by your smile that day
she trusted the bloat in her belly
and let down the guard around her heart
only to be let down by your stagnant definition of love
and how you may have mentioned never feeling it for her
beulah took a breath and caught your eye one fateful night
and you peeled the sweat-soaked dress from her body
and perspired between sheets together
the bedroom serving as a private extension of the dance floor
then you took her for crepes when she wasn't gone by morning
even more erotic that the night before was the way she sucked the sugar from her fingers
but that never meant you loved her

small, esurient foxes spoil the vine
eyes wider than their bellies
they whine and wail in discomfort
while i wonder what kind of scavenger i've become
sorting through the scraps they've left in the trash
i wonder when i became second best of third to last
until the dominant fox attacks with teeth as tiny and sharp as the thorns of a rose
and she leaves me bleeding for her brethren to feast

i don't know how to put this so i'll just beat around the bush
and one those innocent roots are exposed i'll let you know
if you looked into the mirror, you'd know exactly how i miss her
and i'm glad that you've never questioned the reason
because i've never had one or the need to explain
but if this shrub should set fire i will spin your story
until the flames catch to the forest or die in tacit embers
either way, we'll keep our bodies warmer
warmer than if we were curled together under sheets
in the crulest of winter weather