Whatever floats her boat
must sink the world,
or she's not satisfied.
What butters up her bread
must leave yours dry.
She takes it all: both sides.
What makes her bed - well.
She's not making it
with plans to sleep.
No rest, from wickedness,
my friend -
but if you find yourself
in her best interest,
consider yourself blest - and next,
prepare to weep.
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