finding Amsterdam (2019)

Empty Rooms

 

Nothing for sale

But it was just after 10am

Everyone has to sleep, sometime.

 

Just soulless rooms with empty stools

High plinths

All the better for selling the wares

Faux leather

Wipe clean

Red …. of course

 

The sweet cloying perfume of cannabis

Hung heavy in the morning air

Joints easier to buy in a coffee shop here

Than a decaf latte to go

 

She barely registered them

Meandering by

Safe in their cosy togetherness

Just stood there

Bored vacant stare

A world away from theirs

The other side of the glass

 

Black lace

Painted face

Long legs

Pert breasts

A man’s fantasy tick box

In one window display

 

“It’s just sex”

“They’re looked after here, they’re …. clean”

“Business is business”

“At least she has a job”

“It happens anyway, anywhere”

“You can look, but, no fucking photos … ok?”

 

No

None of it felt,  ok

 

Her waist gave her away

Less a woman, more a girl

When did her journey bring her there?

Too young, too young

 

And when

Did her mind and her heart become empty rooms

Where for less than 50 euros

She had no choice but to sell her soul

 

 

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