Brass knuckle keys clutched in her trembling hand
thin stilettos clicking quick down the street.
The cocktail no longer tasting so sweet
vision going black, getting hard to stand.
Bartender's face, smiling, was taunt and tanned
she didn't see it, when blushing at her feet
thighs weaker when standing up from her seat
cursing herself, learning that it was planned--
thick fingers planted on the car door.
Her jaw slackens, knees collapse, passing out
he grips her wrinkled blouse to hold her up,
drunk whisper: "You wanted this, you whore."
In the hospital, her friend had some doubt
"Are you sure that it wasn't just a hookup?"
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