I am erica,
swirling carelessly,
swaying as
serotonin lifts my body,
I show my flashy heels and
diabolical makeup to the world.
I swagger, barely standing straight,
back to his ‘cute apartment’
labelled 1948.
Rael is a man I’ve met before,
I laugh in his ear and play with
his sinful hair.
He whispers “Undress Erica” into my lobe,
as we continue to dance until we enter,
and that’s when I get the call.
I answer with laughter,
curl my hair
when doing so.
There is pleading and tears,
from a recognisable voice with a middle
eastern number, whom I hang up on.
I go over to Rael, bite my lip,
anxiety fills my body,
and I put my heels back on.