love for sale

the woman
with long legs
and hardly
a stitch on,
leans into your
car window
at three a.m.
and says tiredly
love for sale.
how much, you say.
how much you got,
she says back.
a dollar,
you say.
I spent it all
on dinner and
dessert, wine
and small talk,
now I'm heading home.
too bad, she
says, you should
have seen me
first