This Rough Trade

This Rough Trade

by Husam (Sam) Salman

He's lucky beyond some words, generous are the hands that
Feed, greed, need, plead, heed, lead, bleed 
He's popular, a private dancer, he'll do it for money
Sells his body, see how this pretty man is kept
How his bills payed, where he got that 
Bracelet, necklace, phone and car

This is rough trade? How dainty they've become, 
Though the scars similar - New ones added over the years 
Like the reminder of times passage
Rides in cages

Childhood always left a great deal to be desired
Everything remains twisted, though not
No boarders, guidelines...like falling endlessly
Not knowing what was "safe" or "good"
Navigated your own path to live by

Where "love" was abandoned when you were
And all other relations were never allowed in any further 
To earn your love
For drinks, for drugs, for tonight - 
Poor substitutes for role models 

He gets off knowing he's getting them off
Inner guilt smothered by child's rant
Oh gurl, he's going to have you no matter what you want

Every night (and some days) he proves his self worth 
Solidifies his choices with every shot

Manly gear in tow for the nights long haul
Hey faggot, you forgot something in the stall last night
...and you can't ever get that back... 

All he wanted was money, but that wasn't really the sport 
Or ever enough

Lust for sale...come and get yours here.