De To No. 27

In the darkness I survey your shape,
Hair blacker than tonight
Cascading over your breasts,
Smoothness of midriff
Geometry of thighs

That rhythmic breathing
Makes me wonder
How long did it take
To sleep so soundly in a stranger's bed

I lie here writing your biography in my mind;
I have memorized every imperfection
That bears witness to the village girl I imagine
Did you get this falling off a bicycle?
Trip over your feet chasing a friend?
And that one, did you cry, like I once did,
When the needle went in?

As girl became young woman
You went without complaint
Left that dusty eastern town behind
Parents at the door,
A final wai,
Unspoken acceptance,
Or was it willful ignorance
You saw in their eyes?

But duty called
Its voice echoed off the temples
And down through the generations
As the pretty one,
Your reward was to be
Bartered for a brother's education,
Traded for a TV

As I think of you,
My dearest until daybreak,
So many short-times and so many long-times from now
How much will the game have cost?
What will a thousand petty deceits,
A thousand wounds to the soul have lost?

Tomorrow there will be no time for answers
In my dream, I'll hear the rain come down in sheets
You'll slink into last night's smoke-filled skirt
And back down into the streets

Stickman's thoughts:

Poems about bargirls….my goodness, what will be next?