I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

she had no choice but to sell her body to provide for her family
without an education, she had to use her beauty as currency
it was her only way out of the curse of poverty
she was born in, out the adobe house she grew up in
so she put on her loudest and reddest lipstick
slid on her garter belt and fishnet stockings
over her slender thighs along with the most revealing
and tightest dress she could find and stood at the corner
with a plastered smile on her face,
poised like a doll for the taking
the only english she knew was
“me love you long time”

4 decades later her sons would make amends and forgive her
even if a couple of them didn’t know who their fathers were
even though this started a generational curse carried on
unintentionally
she just wanted to know what it was like to not struggle
to have enough food in her belly
to be able to wear more than two outfits in a year
it was her pipe dream she wanted to make into reality