Leather and Lace
She's old
I mean like really old
Weathered and worn
Brown skin
Leathery
But not dry or cracked
She's got eyes
There
But gone
Beaten
Still, an ember remains
And a smile
So distant
So far
So elusive
It must be in a different world
Anyhow
Like it was expected
Like it was a given
Like I had paid for it
Just like I'd paid for it
She sits down beside me
Puts down her drink
And stubs out her cigarette
In moments
In seconds
She's gone
Only a pile of hair remains
Moaning and groaning
Pleading her case
With soft silken lips
All the while
Not a word is spoken
Of protest or hate
But then
When she is done
I notice
There are neither ones
Of love
Or thanks
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