You found me in disguise; I imagine your surprise, encountering a nun in such a place. With my face I must admit, and innocence our remit; that a nun in an alley must seem quite debased. But my clientele approve, in distorting every move; I must appear quite straight laced.
These secrets I hold cause me great ambivalency, they would see me hang for treason and publicity. A person in my line of work is oft hated and despised. But our need is always there, for individuals with money spare; and income to keep the sharks at bay be prized. Do not imagine for a second this brings great felicity.
For who has not told a secret, and felt a sour little regret. It’s a living for the very desperate few. Jumping at the shadow, anxious to leave my wife a widow. This be the perfect disguise for a man in my view. Does it not seem strange? I confess it slightly eccentric and deranged. But it works for purpose and is very fetching too.
A nun who is really male? All other camouflage does fail; compared with the incognito of a wimple. So give me what I’m due and I’ll name names’ ’till we’re through. Do not take me simple, I am not some dithering pimple. There, now our transaction is complete. I take my leave and with names you are replete.
Goodbye for now my friend and God bless; these heels are really killing my poor feet.
Cover: Elena Anguissola in a Nun’s Garb by Sofonibsa Anguissola (with some sacrilege by Pitchforkin’)