professional women.
women
of the night,
young beauties
of the red light district.
it's an exchange,
he'd say.
a transaction,
not a business contract,
long term,
like marriage,
based on an emotion.
this was
cash for services
rendered,
minus the nagging,
the get your
feet off the coffee
table,
go mow the lawn,
dig up the weeds
and walk the dog.
my mother is coming to live
with us next week,
can you paint the hall?
at the end of it no one
gets my
house, he'd say.
i don't have to get a lawyer,
or give up half of everything
i've worked for.
i don't have to move.
i keep my cars,
my life,
my dignity.
i sleep deeply at night.
and i never
have to beg,
when i'm in the mood.
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