Loving a Prostitute

The bed is cold
Lonely is the night
When do things warm up?
She comes at first light
When the men have gone home
To their wives and families
When the streets are empty
With no one left to please
She treads softly
So as not to wake me
Takes off her shoes
And undresses with care
For the first time that night
I hear the shower
Smell the water hot
Her warm skin
Lying next to me
Is all I have
I roll to face her
Open my eyes
See her tears
And kiss her lips
She’s limp in my arms
And falls asleep like a child
The love in our embrace
Is the love that people write about

Mark Talacko After graduating from Syracuse Mark Talacko roamed below the 49th parallel and grew bored and impatient. Now he is East, a Chinese city just above the crab line, at work on a novel and a collection of short stories, fighting off the growing restlessness that brought him there. "Loving a Prostitute," comes from "Signs of a Horrible Feast: Poems written without conquest," a collection of poetry written and published by Mark Talacko and Timothy Davids (Community Books, 2001). "Signs" presents two new and differing voices writing to be heard, writing to challenge hearts and minds, and satiate the need to transpose the things within upon a page. Copies of "Signs" are available by writing to Mark Talacko (xiamenkid@hotmai.com) or Timothy Davids (timothydavids@hotmail.com). Signed copies available upon request.

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