Twelve Dollars-Worth to Me

Twelve Dollars by nightingailmirajsiintzenith

Worth to Me

this body-that, i took, to earn some money to buy my books hastened to crimp my hair-hot air and sticky neck in my dorm room, strands in my face, blown into my mouth; two lip pencils to get the color right, mascara-stray spots under my brows, smeared by finger tips and saliva, layered foundation to bury-

they told me i had to wear make-up- looked better on stage. i wipe it on with my beige-soiled sponge, over the flakes on my cheeks and forehead. jumped out of and in to constumes, sweaty,

counting my dollar bills between. i actually felt like i'd accomplised somethingwalked into the dressing room out of the bar with money on my hips and a child's lemonade stand-pride: twelve dollars for a dance.

then made sure the nail polish was still present to cover what was not supposed to be exposed. i did thisgymnastics on the hard stage, high heeled boots that didn't zip all the way up and flared pants with the sequins peeling off, and ran my hand over the pubis triangle

(the others did it to be erotic) i did it because i landed wrong out of a roll and hit it on the hard stage. i bent backwards with one hand on the brassy pole, looking at Them trying to smile so Their sentiments would not kick in and override Their lust; so They wouldn't feel bad for coming, while They looked at me expecting, with incompleteness, to make me think this time i should rub my chest on Their faces.

they told me to kiss Them on the cheek, (i was Their fantasy for the while)

which i was at first, reluctant, then did so willingly with lips full, but not because i wanted to-

because it wouldn't matter. the same reason i played truth or dare and hung by my knees naked from the frame of our swing and walked with my top down into the neighbor's yard. this body that i took would never be worth anything to Anyone i thought, so I jumped out and let them see it.