In the Heart of the Heart of the City


STREETS: At night, traffic is slow in the Tenderloin.  Men stop
their cars, roll down their windows.  Women without names
go to them and exchange money for forgetfulness.  Pimps and
drug dealers stand hidden in the shadows.  Their loneliness
is palpable; I know it well.

BUILDINGS: New immigrants live here, six people sleeping in
one room.  Ethnic grocery stores, restaurants, newspaper stands.
During the day, children play in front of massage parlors.

SEX: The pleasure is cold, impersonal, addictive.  Long ago,
I stopped asking for their names, but memories of their bodies
stay with me for years.  The women retreat inside themselves
until I'm done using their bodies, yet I can feel their loathing
in every embrace.  Once, overcome with charity, a woman kissed
me on the mouth.

STREETS: Broken glass from smashed car windows lie on the
sidewalk.  Every few minutes, a car alarm starts somewhere.

BUILDINGS: The buildings are scarred and mutilated by graffiti,
a rite of passage for the young men who live here.  I, too,
am scarred.

WOMEN: Sometimes they were enticed to come here by false
promises of employment.  Sometimes they pay large sums of
money to come here, and sell themselves to pay off their debts.

KISSING: I've come in their cunts, in their mouths, in their
asses, sometimes without condoms, but kissing is forbidden
to me.  I've learned to despise kissing, and love.

SEX: Sometimes, when the girl is new, I hurt her a little.
I like it when she struggles a bit.  The pain is honest,
genuine, and I feed on it.

WOMEN: Once, a girl started talking to my car.  Whenever my
car made a noise, she said, "Really?"

ORGASM: My cock is opening her ass.  She's in pain; I can see
tears forming in her eyes, a wrinkled frown on her young brow.
The head pops in.  "Ugh!" she says softly.  I slide in further.
Her anal muscles feels like a tight noose around my cock.
Her hands turn into fists, pound the mattress.  "Please,
slowly," she says.  I ignore her, sink in all the way.  She
breathes in gasps, her nostrils flare.  Suddenly, I pull out.
"Ugh!"  she says again.  Her asshole is open, twitching.
I thrust into her again, hard, and this time she grits her
teeth and makes a high-pitched sound.  Her spit drips out
from between her teeth onto the mattress.  She reaches behind
to try to push me away, but I pin her arms down and continue.
She's crying freely now.  "Ow! Ow! Ahh!" she says in time with
my thrusts.  I bite her shoulder.  I feel myself come.

THE GIRL: Afterwards, I try to hold her, but she pulls away
from me, still crying.  I insist, and she lets me.

margiedonnadieu@gmail.com

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