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Lady of pleasure they call you
Yet there is none of that
In your smile.
Your face is the shadow
Of boredom, betrayal,
Of never avenged pain--
still young.
You have seen,
Have heard,
And felt much,
soon.
Lady of wet night
And dry eye,
Callous of lip,
And weary of thigh,
And late.
-- from France Poems
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