Prostitute

Tonight a prostitute, I think, sat next to me.
I was sleepy, but out of all the places to sit, she chose by me.
And so we rode, side by side, until we both exited at Franklin Ave.

I tried not to look upon her, but not because she was ugly.
She was beautiful, though I kept wondering if she was truly a he in drag
because, in truth, sometimes they make more lovely women.

I kept thinking too of the former prostitutes I had befriended over the summer.
I prayed for her to believe in her dignity and to see herself as beautiful.
How easy it is for us to misjudge the prostitutes as "beneath" us.