A pleasure-seeker, petulant, pruned hard,
stepping-out, a girl of fifty, gin-drinker,
rouged and randy, she bandies words,
hair-styled, clothes perfumed; no excesses
of taste. Nothing smeared or wrinked here,
a tinkle of bangles as she lifts her drink.
Dressed up, for the night, tight and squirmy.
She looks around, she smiles as she sees
the man's face, pulsates, no hotel room-service
this, no head-shredding beast, but a hardened
release. This evening's, he's the last in a line.
She hopes there'll be another, there's time. 

1997: Lifting the Veil', NHI publishing.