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Description
The selected prose of poet Steven James, American writer and lyricist.
EXCERPT FROM BOOK
THE WHORE
Her selfless desires, those foul tiresome liars
came back from the brink of the long lonesome fires.
Through soft, pink sheets and delicate retreat
the body wore her with a soul in defeat.
They used what was left, and discarded the rest
once moist was now tattered, no more subtle her breast.
As she walked down the alley, alone on the night
the car came to get her, with terrible delight.
Plied with spirits, plied with smoke, through her veins, just a poke
the whore wore a smile, through her lips with a joke.
They beat her, raped her, tore her clothes more than shoddy
left naked impressions, and scars on her body.
Tossed aside like a rag doll, left in darkness at all
she rose up without pride, in this long cold nightfall.
When she slept in her bed, through the days in her head
all she knew was the past, for she wished she was dead.
And too stark for a life, at long last now revived
she would walk down those alleys, once again to survive.
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