i watch her from below.
every time she descends,
slides down the pole,
time slows
until it comes to a stop.
she moves her body gracefully,
head held high,
professionally,
she sways her hips
puckers her lips
as intoxicated exhilarated men
shower her with tips
but she glows,
vividly against neon lights,
like a firefly who cannot cry
so it burns bright
till the day it dies,
on the brink of death,
she shines like a
star on its final breath
i watch her from below
she says she’s used to it,
but i know
her better
than all the body glitter—
i watch her from below,
still i cannot say anything
for i am
nothing but a mere spectator
of her show.
