FIVE DOLLARS
I am not mine; I am Madam’s.
She recounts how much I am worth
five dollars every man I bed.
A red dress hangs from these bamboo stems
my life, my dreams, hang in merciless hands.
I have known the many faces of this bamboo roof.
They assured a better life for me
predators masked behind community trust.
Five dollars every man I bed.
I tattooed my name on my arm, gold
every stroke an eternal reminder of my worth,
I have known the many faces of this bamboo roof,
five dollars every man I bed.