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#5 - The prostitute

She stood in silence
as he unbuttoned her skirt.
His hands smelled of smoke.

The husband's fingers
were more gentle than others
but they still were there.

The dollars dropped like
snow falling through the saplings
onto her body

She dressed quietly
and returned to the dark road
to begin again.

Author notes

The fifth poem in my poetry cycle. Written for my creative writing class in college.
Written November 14th, 2006

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