One Shot

She untangles the knots in her hair
She removes the coloured powder plastered all over her face
Staring at a resemblance of herself
Warm beads of liquid dampen her face
She shakes her head
It is over… at least for today

The autumn wind sends a chill down her spine
Her thoughts fill with questions
She has two more mouths to feed
Though she knows she shouldn’t, she carries on
She has no choice, not now not tonight
Her life depends on it

Closing her eyes she feels the joy and the laughter that once was
But she slaps herself in anger, “that is not real” she tells herself.
This is . . .
The penetration into her raw flesh
Evokes a sense of comfort and relief
It hits her hard through and through
Her mind is at ease…at least for now
Another shot of satisfaction is the pain of prostitution

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