Bedtime Story #1
—Seoul, Korea 1971
Father gave her a little extra. How could she not
fall for him? He was handsome
but still a boy. In the depot where soldiers
took such women, his skinny body clung
too close to hers and his narrow ass still
belonged to his mother. The other men
knew the routine and how much to pay.
She loathed their accent and American swagger.
The sweat would barely cool and dry
before another shook the cot and bucked his hips
out of rhythm—in some other time zone.
However, he began to offer other things
besides money. He brought sweets from the base
and the minute he touched his pocket
the face she reserved for his English crumbled
like sweet toffee. Because he didn't know how
to say what he wanted to say, no time
was spent on uneasiness. Chocolate,
caramel and peanuts spoke best, secured
his place. He hooked his arms through hers as if
they could stroll the lane like an ordinary couple:
the unassuming black and the Korean whore
in the middle of the Vietnam War.
Copyright Credit: Sjohnna McCray, "Bedtime Story #1" from Rapture. Copyright © 2016 by Sjohnna McCray. Reprinted by permission of Graywolf Press, www.graywolfpress.org.
Source: Rapture (Graywolf Press, 2016)