Not Much

By: RDV


There is a convention known to man and woman,
A challenge of fate weighed by the magnitude of a dare,
Gullibility, or simply recklessness.
Red lights, dark skies, intoxication and the like;
Tell me how do you resist the reprehensible, corporeal
Rush of compulsion?
How do you spend a beautiful night with a complete stranger?
And not wake up the next morning
With mortal fear, with regret unending?
Allow me then to tell you her story,
She who groped to the limit, up to where joy could take her;
She opened her eyes to see how much she claimed she was worth
And only saw two figures.
That's when she knew he had stripped her down to her shadow.
Bare and white, not immaculate, but naked through and through.