Traffick

12:44 a.m. Hollowed-out eyes Rimmed with kohl Set deep in sunken faces. Tracks down faces and up arms Visible under flickering halogen bulbs. Dark cars creep by, Distorted light reflections glinting off black metal Stopping by each person Until the unsuspecting are forced into vehicles. 1:18 a.m. Money and drugs are exchanged Before driving to a cash-only motel Where favors from bodies become the currency. The analog in the car changed to 2:23 a.m. $200 for an hour Tucked in the back pocket of worn Levi’s An average pull at 16. A lit cigarette placed between smears of #213 Red Rose Guided her back to a cold cement patch With the word “Home” etched in faded chalk. States away, a “Missing” flyer bearing her face rustled in the wind. “Please help” screamed the flyer in Ellis Bold font.