The ashy air clings to her neck,
her beauty slips
fast
off her face.
Her youth jolted me
once,
it lingers in her eyes still, and
mine.

Bar worker, groped and poked,
safety is far from here.
Agelessness to age,
it taps on the walls she sleeps within
nagging at the dignity she
keeps.
These mirrors look back
much longer than
before.
Holding hands with saints
that don’t seem to care and
though they hang
from her neck in confidences clean
they dip into drinks
mixed for other
untouchables.
Yet, these ones seem to give tips,
As lips beg for more.

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