Mary Magdalene, who in Jesus’s times,
Became the biblical one,
The one who followed the chosen one,
To his destined death.
The oldest profession, practiced by throngs
Who reach out to you, in red-light districts,
From Thailand to New York.
The short skirts, the fore-arm extending forward,
The little gestures, subtle eye-contact,
The promise of lipstick,
The burgundy mascara and red blush,
A body for an out-of-body experience,
Carrying a fat twat that has seen less
Sunlight than any cloistered nun.