One Thousand Ships

      Her dust brown skin puts shine on her dark eyes and hair  
     Thrilled by the thought of a Mexican mistress
     By the thought of her being that mistress
     I approach
     “Tue eres muy bonita”
     Such beauty
     “Fifty dollars fuck; twenty dollars suck”
     She evokes the still corner
       The magic of the streetlights
     The dew on the quiet bus stop
     Peacefulness in the midst of war
     Her soul is pure
     Her memory burnt into my heart
     The treasure of her breath
     It deserves a thousand ships