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DarkPoetry Poem of the Day: The Whore

note: this was a dream. not real.

I met a whore yesterday
She was sipping from a strong black coffee
from an oversized mug
She wore
A pink shawl over her shoulders
Her fishnet legs were crossed and she wore a dress with heels on
Her hair, picked up in a messy bun and swung
As she slightly rocked back and forth

She didn't even look over 21
with green eyes
and pale lips.
She was, in her own way, beautiful.

I saw next to her and we talked.
Two women at a coffee shop at eight in the morning
An hour later, she told me she had to go

"You're the nicest person I've met in three years. Thank you for showing me what
it's like."

Laura was her name and
Before she left,
Laura kissed my lips.

She hurried out the coffee shop with no explanation.

---

Days later, I met Laura and asked why she had kissed me.

"It's the only way I know how to show love.
Men no longer kiss my lips,
They do not know where my mouth has been.
I can't offer sex because it's the coldest thing
I can ever give someone.
No matter how close sex may get you to the other person, it's not love.
A kiss can show what sex wishes it could show.
A kiss can show as many emotion as making love. Only innocently."

We parted.

A small touch means so much more to me,
than it did years ago.

http://www.darkpoetry.com/node/work/114561
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Your Poem for August 15, 2010

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Whereas Mary Jo's poem yesterday felt very visual, Barbara's poem is musical: the singing birds, the crackling dry grass . . . and even though she references the color--not the sound--of the silk dress, I can just hear those shimmery folds swishing in the breeze. Amazing how ordinary moments in time can be so arresting if we simply let our senses loose.. Today's poem is  "Happiness"   by Barbara Crooker  Thanks for supporting www.YourDailyPoem.com.   Jayne Jaudon Ferrer

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