Coming up in red,
Earth shadows, done all in burgundy,
Rise slow on curved skin.

Burgundy nails and lips contrast with pale, white hips.
Then smooth, Caucasian legs cross.
Her smudged ivory tusks, poached for pennies.

Dark red house bricks,
That deep, purple red with its night glare.
In the shadowed corner, she just sits there.

Nightfall in deeper-than-navy blue,
Deeper-than-any desire she knew.
So much dignified want, a kind of caged necessity.
Power condensed in fingertips, future confined to dark street mazes.

Shining, turned blue under street lamps and drizzle,
She waits.
And there will be.

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