Standing on her corner,
Vending her explicit trade,
Breath steaming in the freezing air,
Rising from her painted lips, soon to fade.

The thrum of an engine,
Close at hand,
Someone pulls up in a red hot Ferrari,
Not some dinky van.

He pulls up beside her curb,
Shaded eyes hooked on her curls so red
Crooking a finger,
Beckoning her to his bed.

In a tumble of sheets,
So pure and so white,
They make “love”
The entire night.

The next morning he’s gone,
The scent of his cologne still tangled in the air,
Her lip stick smeared,
Gnarls in her pretty hair.

Life teaches us lessons,
Soon to be reviewed,
If you’re not quick,
You get screwed.

 
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