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Image for the poem Worshiping in red lights...

Worshiping in red lights...

In a public harem with the priestesses of voluptuousness.
And some old ones as well, which soul is darker I wonder.
These are for those who need daily passion at any cost.
Not a distant dream, real female beauty. Innocence lost.
This field is euphonious. And so visually appealing.
A playground for your depravity, open 24 hours a day.
"50 euro suck and f*ck" so cold and transactional.
It just seems lifeless, and yet somehow so full of life.
Eager mouths, eager bodies, red lights all day and night.
Written by KristinaX
Published
Author's Note
My parents used to take me to Amsterdam when we lived in the UK. Yeah you know what for... But I always found the red light district fascinating. This seedy underground seems to suit me even at such a young age somehow. I could find myself getting lost in it to the waft of smells of sex mixed with drugs. Eating fries with ketchup and mayo from the munchie stands. Nobody even seemed to care why is this kid here. And I walked through the red light district looking into the windows of the souls on display wondering about their stories. How did they get here? How did any of us get here? And I wondered what would it take for me to do that... But really I already knew what it was like to be objectified and exploited at that age. Maybe I already had the answer after all.
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