Stale fish and sour milk,
On the marble floor.

Their pockets were rich,
But their hearts were cold.

Sweet sorrows of burning palms,
He loved everything that was wrong.

She washed away his pain with coconut flesh,
And tender kisses of a foul mouth.

Threaded brows and polished nails,
Pouting lips and ruffled skirts.

Doing it slow, with a Magic Mike look-alike.
Hosting shows for the richest of the slums.

Wearing glittering rocks,  buying Vuittons.
Stolen dollars, well spent before their time inside.

Writhe, burn, twist and roll,
Bodies on fire as hot as Hell, itself.

He pled for breath at the flicking furnace,
"Rot, in misery!" said Satan himself.

Sipping tonics on toned bellies.
Elbows soft from jasmine lotions.
White skin painted in deep caramel.

He held his sweaty palms out,
Begging, a penny for his meal.
She kept the dollar for a Starbucks latte.

The sugar, the ice, glazed upon the cream buns.
An array of plates of delicacies.
The roasted pig, grunted while being chewed.
Or perhaps, that was the man who chewed it.

She stood in rags waiting to be served.
'What would 2 pence get me?'
They snickered and giggled as she,
Bought a stick of butter for dinner.

Maids at noon
Performers in the eve'

Maria and Ayla worked,
For every penny they stole.