She... By Chris Chakwana

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Her clothes scantily placed
cleavage out, short miniskirt; lasciviously dressed 
womanhood exposed
loose man's feelings aroused.

She moves about in search of her prey
lurking the dark city night in notes and coins
they must pay.
To quench their sexual appetite that hunger the ache of their loins.

Her face laden with too much mascara, hides her age, her past her history
her love's in a cage her past just but a mystery.

The noise she makes as she paces the quiet night with her stiletto
This darkness hides her deeds
her fear of being caught in this flagrante delicto
all her clients, loose adulterous men she has tamed
fear of the disease thrown through the window,

that wife soon to become a widow,

all in search of Her eternal pleasure.