Botero 'Card Players' 1991 |
At the bordello the game begins. Two men, one woman.
Four of hearts, five of spades,
she places down on the table.
Tonight she will win. She has no doubt.
she places down on the table.
Tonight she will win. She has no doubt.
The men are uneasy. Captivated by her beauty,
yet bewildered by her charm.
The room stinks of stale booze and tobacco.
yet bewildered by her charm.
The room stinks of stale booze and tobacco.
Cigarettes burn in an ashtray, now forgotten.
The man under the brown hat watches her,
nervous. Aware of the card, concealed away.
The man under the brown hat watches her,
nervous. Aware of the card, concealed away.
The other man places a card face down.
Each know the rules.
A single light bulb hangs from the ceiling, naked.
The woman has nothing to hide.
Her hand, with blood red fingernails, holds her cards.
The woman has nothing to hide.
Her hand, with blood red fingernails, holds her cards.
Her whiskey remains untouched, her head clear.
While the men are thirsty. Desiring more.
They all look the same, she is thinking.
They all look the same, she is thinking.
From across the table, she holds his stare.
Although silent, her eyes reveal all. She knows.
He feels the edge of the card, underneath his rear.
This evening has not gone as he'd hoped.
By the doorway, another watches. Ready.
The men await her next move.
We are all voyeurs.
© the dishonest woman
© the dishonest woman