Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Please pity, God, the prostitute
who sells her love alloyed.
Illusion traded for sensation,
Her once-warm eyes now void.
Put love for her in someone's eyes,
One man she might respect.
From all her lovers, all her sons,
She knows not to expect.
Give her a hearth, a fire, a room
With supple sheets and roof above,
To warm her face, perhaps her heart
To pray for those once loved.
____
Jon von Gunten ©2004
who sells her love alloyed.
Illusion traded for sensation,
Her once-warm eyes now void.
Put love for her in someone's eyes,
One man she might respect.
From all her lovers, all her sons,
She knows not to expect.
Give her a hearth, a fire, a room
With supple sheets and roof above,
To warm her face, perhaps her heart
To pray for those once loved.
____
Jon von Gunten ©2004
