Malina

Malina

Watching the neon green dress under the black light,
my mind is stuck in the polyester fibers.
The contrast between fluorescent fabric
and sienna skin is stark,
mesmerizing my
nose takes refuge in the heavy rose-scented body spray.
I stick another dollar into the welcoming chasm
that is her breast
and I get what I came here for.
I don't know where she goes home to,
nor do I care
I don't ask her about her children
or the weather or sports
I'm spared the idle chitchat of that sort
She doesn't pretend to listen
or cook me dinner or wash my clothes.
She doesn't give me a new tie
every year for my birthday,
nor does she know how it feels
when I come inside her.
I don't even know her name
nor does she know mine.
She doesn't want me to do anything for her.
No expectations creep from beneath the amber of her eyes
I find no disappointment dwelling there.
Her thick dark hair tickles my chin.
I welcome her warm flesh
fresh from the tanning bed--
still warm to the touch.
Doesn't she know that those
UV Rays might kill her someday?