Woman of a Lesser Art

You say you want a woman of worth
But the only value you recognize is 36,26,34
I am not a puppet
Content to perform as you see fit
And so I become a Woman of a lesser art.
Beauty, it seems
Is bestowed in only 2 fragrances-
The Rose And the Lily.
My scent, of freshly struck match
is merely a utility of creating a fire.
Soon blown out, soon forgotten,
Soon consumed in the flames of its own making.
Gone up in smoke.