Just One More

Early flight,
Foreign days too bright.
Night draws with a bang.
Curtains closed, skirts up.
Old streets buzz with pimps and cheats.
Sex in the air.
All for a fair fare.
Her fatigued head, his wallet.
A classy bar, a sleazy toilet.
Part of the play, trip away.
Any old dud feels like a stud.
Pussy on the wind.
Setting up for good grind.
Getting low so you can’t go.
She lays her head to rest.
Holiday urge starts to spread.
He pushed her ‘til she was sunned down.
“Just one more.”
Pretends not off to score.
Whore behind another door.
In sleepy head all tore with gore.
Slips in hours too late…
Stinking and slick from a professional date.

© Natasha Sinclair

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