The Magician

She said her name was Lola

And she came from the West

And though I’d never know her

I always liked her best

Often she was above me

Afraid to be below

She cried because she loved me

And asked me to go slow

They open her by force and then

They open her by love

Wide eyed with legs apart again

They feel her with their gloves

Dressed height to heel for Sunday

‘One day’ sealed against her will

I’ll hold the lady someday,

I hold her mother still

Or it might have been Maria

Done in rich robes from the East

For though I’ll always see her

Never knew her in the least.