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poems poetry

Hooker Love.

musty cotton sheets

soft, hot skin, sweat.

she smells like cheap

patchouli and benson & hedges

freckles on her thigh, her

arm resting on her drooping tit.

she buries another fucking butt

into the ashtray and asks

when I’m going to get a

curtain for my goddamn shower.

she likes the avocado ones

with mushrooms on them.

I tell her she’s a moron and

can’t pick it out.

 

the ashtray

empties in my face

her fat ass and small waist

gets up.

she still smells like

sex- her legs wobble

and buckle as she sits on

the toilet.

my door doesn’t lock.

she wants breakfast.

bacon.

eggs.

coffee.

the bitch wants me to keep

paying for a relationship

that usually lasts an hour.