Handbag Poem by Emran Hossen

I felt some desire and I lost my cents
it was expensive to feel so much

I lost my sense and my money I did
not consent though it was consensual

It was a con and it cost me my self
I was selfless I was trailing a scent

I was moaning but not for the money
and that's a mistake I lost my sole take

and now there's nowhere to stake a claim
I'd put a stake in his heart but I can't

O Bacchus will you dress me in grape leaves
I'm back to the bar to begin again

and needing a quaff of some rich stuff
and some hair dye and a bewitching scent

and all that is sensual and cunning
without a cent or sense in the world

and nothing in my handbag but my soul