the curse

I would have given her a smoke
I usually do
to whomever asks.
But I have only one left.
She wanders off
And circles back
To curse me
That one day I too should know
what it’s like
To be forced by the system
and state
to sell my body and live and sleep on the streets.
She circles away and back in again
To be beaten and imprisoned and forced to leave.
And again
To have to lay with the corpses
pretending to be dead
just to be left alone,
and they still fuck you.
I sit swaying imperceptibly.
Amplitude and frequency make all the difference.

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