Streetwalkers

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Streetwalkers

By: Kendall Jackson

Today I wake to pale light splitting amber glass. I slip out of bed. Throw on last nights pants, jacket and brace for the long day ahead.

I open the front door and the unfamiliar steps of a new brownstone greet me with silence. I think they judge me.

I cross the street into another alley, hustlers I know as friends creep out back doors. I still haven’t found what I am looking for. This may be my last chance.

In my pursuit of happiness I am seduced by a snake. Frightened by it’s beauty. Petals take form like steel, kissing the outer edges of my palm.

Fallacious in it’s power to heal, it serves me well. Please don’t hurt me. I later partake.

Take it home, try to bathe it, we baptize in debauchery. Only to realize we are bruised, not a blemish in sight. I wonder if before me.

We mimic funny faces with paper bags. Bulging lips drain to a toxic well. Never ending drowning eternity. It is not heaven or hell.

If he struggles to wake leave him in his dreams where things aren’t better but different. They are not real. Friends tell me they are not real.

Paste together memories. Manifest alter egos. Frame pictures in our minds.

Happiness can be found in dark corners if you turn on a light.

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Model: Shiloh Smith

Creative Direction, Photography, Styling: Yours Truly

Kendall Jackson