A GLIMPSE INTO THE BOUDOIR

Poem about people who do bad things thinking that noone is watching them.

A slit letting puny light through

Upon twilight into the boudoir

Renders my heart intensely shone

At which in their sockets roll my eyes

Wide open, staring and numbed;

    hardly dazzled, though.

There and then is the blemished

Ogled dressing wraithlike

And doing the mired routine:

A mortal inhabiting the boudoir -

So timid in its deeds and unmindful of

The moles and their activity out here!

Whence I say [Whispering]:

'Please, whisk me soonest and away

Lest I behold what lieth beneath that

Bijou crimson fabric, carrying upon its surface

Small white dots with a lilac touch

After all, being boarded up now

Is the slit into the filthy boudoir.'