night life
daughter of darkness
too many daddy's
to speak of,
some with slight hand
some with heavy hand
she has the scars of the street
finds her avenues
acrimoniously,
thumbing rides,
backseat bedposts
positions in an unaccustomed society
he nods,
she turns away even as she turns toward
a few bills,
a few meals
a dilapidated room to rent
her heart rented out by the hour
her body a vacant hallway
a neon sign
daddy comes, daddy goes
and the biological sentiment
drained from birth
the umbilical cut
with violent words
shameful images ignite in her head
as she bends toward the rainbow
her skies always cloudy
a shielded moon
of being.
erin-cilberto
1/17/17