Child of Amsterdam

the droplets ran in blurring rivulets, her form behind the glass a fluid shape, a naked wraith in smoke from cigarettes; about her shoulders ghostly tendrils drape when posing through the pane into the street through plumes of steam adorning as a cape; sat unclothed upon the window seat, dulled by all the damage needles do, reposed another teenage piece of meat; sex for sale to feed the human zoo, sightlessly she pouts into the damp, at all the punters staring coldly through; sat beneath the ruddy neon lamp, her habit gnaws, serrated like a clam, and chews upon her loins with grit and cramp; pale and skinny like a slaughtered lamb, remaining statue still with ersatz smile, another sorry child of Amsterdam…