A gift of rotten fruit

A week later in her second visit,
When she blushed of her interest
In me, I boomed with wings,
Having taken her as a reserved asset,
And taken me as a thunder.
Today, in her appointed tryst,
She shattered my whims at a stroke,
From the very embrace of her,
Betraying her professionalism.
A cheep prostitute, her acts revealed
She was sent back, not to call back.
18.05.2005, pakd

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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