As the night waited expectantly
with its thousand disappointments
and as many desires gone unmet
as stars in a weary universe,
I sat in the shabby apartment
of my very good acquaintance
Mary Magadelene the Younger,
hooker with a heart of gold plate,
sharing a bottle of wine while she
sat waiting for her next trick to call-
three more and she could make her rent.
All the while she lazily slashed and hacked
scars upon scars upon flesh across her arm
with a paperclip, since she knew her clientele's
attention would hardly ever wander there.
'Do you remember, '
She said never looking up
from her blood-art in progress,
'a time when you felt blessed
for a beautifully familiar face
greeting you with your
sleepy eyes each morning,
rather than the emptiness
of meaningless strangers
that hasten your escape? '
Staring into the red mystery
of my nearly empty glass,
I inhaled from my cigarette,
breathed it out long like a sigh,
and let my reply curl into the air,
'Unfortunately I do.'
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