In a cramped part of
Town, down the
Unfriendly road.
Charm is high..
Under..
Red lights' tone.
Apathy lingers,
In mismatched gowns.
Under hooded
Identities,
Everyone here is
Just a collective
Noun.
Bare bodies,
Often untouched.
Their loneliness
Still unquenched.
People tread adrift.
Hotels, motels
To petty brothels..
Drought everywhere.
Half baked souls
In full-grown bodies.
Restless minds of
Thirsty genitals..
In search of
Salvation
Between thighs,
All are whores of
Their own desires.
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