Aphrodite
Clinging to the whats left
she hangs in the dim lights
and waits, just waits.
For her next prey of theft
there is no fight becuase right
outside is another innocent face.
Another face,
another bargain,
another chase,
another trap.
Trap of beautiful soft skin,
and dangerously deep eyes,
beautiful disguise.
She stays late,
into the midnight,
where only the dollars fly,
and pockets full of ones go dry.
Persuation.
a life effortless fustration.
But needed for fortification.
She swings, she swings.
She steals.
She traps.
She collects.
She goes.
No.
Not promiscuous.
A way of life.
This poem is about:
Our world