|A Date with T.T. in Shenyang
She looks at me with glassy eyes
Nodding as if she understands.
But why did I expect her to?
She only knows lust and money,
The sour smell of sex-stained sheets.
Hope? She knows nothing of hope.
Love? She laughs at the very idea!
Death? He hovers just behind her.
We have another round of drinks.
We share another cigarette.
She smiles without emotion
As she falls into dreamless sleep.
I mouth a silent prayer for her,
This woman that was never a child.
A drunken walk back home.
Darkness brings troubling dreams.
© Copyright 2007 C. Lucas Smith (UN: clucassmith at Writing.Com).
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