The prostitute down purple road

 Outside of the big central buildings the alleys spread out
small portlike stalls all the same height
Single abandoned women can be found at every corner
appealing to the passerby partially desperate, partially hostile

one third witch in the grin mind
shifting weight on tired legs
and inspecting each passerby
looking for that glint of judgement

Down purple road I saw her
infront of a lane of wooden shacks
her eyes glaring out beyond her dark gown
boiling thoughts beyond her brow

almost pointing at my dark shadow
accusing me with all of the corridor ghosts' applauses
trying to confuse me as I attempt to journey on
cobblestone all uneven like her stance

She is not one third witch
she is totally immersed in the craft
and her attempts have roused my defences
yet the winds conspire

the empty shantytown extension nothing but a vein
pumping toward the complex knot of nerves
in the brightest sector of my brain