She grinds, gyrates, and gambols
at the foamy brink,
skillfully masking her self
from the intrusive glance, a shutter
framing lush curves and wet salinity.
An emulsion that captures artifice
negates her tawdry concerns
of an hour ago.
Long moments bare and cold, footsore,
as strap marks slowly dissolved,
Internally she’d spent her wages on
Gas, food, rent.
Never wear tight socks to a shoot,
she’d told herself,
happy to earn some time
away from the stripper pole,
applying make up, and
waiting for the perfect light.

Huaca

Wow! Good Write!

great descriptions and wonderful use of words-WOW
just like Tanya said

Thanks.