Red Light Rose

Traffic lights refuse to consider
green at the
longest intersection ever.

For frequenting faces,
clients of all
sizes, races and
stature long to receive affection
without a name.

And I’ve been waiting on
this crosswalk, watching for
someone to talk you out of getting
in those cars,

from Cadillacs to
makeshift parts still
somehow operational.

If you will be our second rate citizen, it’s a better life than a body found under bridges gets, teeth marks on your lips, fingers in fists, another name on a list of dead women we called unfortunate victims.

Alas, we finally get
our advance green, but the
lass has seen too
much to know she deserves

a second chance,
so she waits
on her next
ride
stopped at
red light corners.

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