My Own Sugar Daddy, My Own Pimp

Some sex workers
Are independent, self-employed
Negotiating the game
With the forgotten, or unenjoyed

Wide lens teaches
Wisdom settles into bed
“Every partnership has its jail”
Beneath the sheets, this soul does not shed

It wins them no money
Instead a kind of sustenance
Sugar-coated power, control
An energy here, in abundance

Emotional currency
Not traded on the exchange
It is meant for the street
To use later, when in close range.

 

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Photo by Jake Davies on Unsplash