Where are the Girls

Where are those girls?
Who carried warm water in their purse.
Saving for later, for a whiny day.
Dipped tea-leaves in it and splashed in the faces 
of the child-men who came to them timidly.
Brave girls!
Memories of them 
petered and lost in my heart.
In correct times impermissible, unwise, perhaps?
So, whisper, whisper.

Benevolence, one part, and lust, another- a meady concoction of the seventh heaven
and, thrill as their bait.
Thus the trade- oh the trade is so onesided that I’d trade my house, my cars, and the damn dog away for I could be thrilled instead.

Where are they gone? 
The lithe girls who carried perfumed water in their crotches,
would raise a war with the lift of an eyebrow- or a titter storm?
Are they done now, gone now, even now, ashes now, coward now?
The children of a norm?