PENNY Penny came softly at the close of day, with a silver little smile and a debt she wouldn’t pay. She wore the evening like a widow wears her black, and when she said my name, I never once looked back. She said, “Come sit beside me, I’ve been waiting all your life. I know the little pleasures that are worth a little strife.” I said, “You look like trouble.” She said, “Trouble looks divine.” Then she laid her hand upon my heart and asked me for my time. She never says forever. She never tells me why. She only leans a little closer when another hour dies. Oh, Penny, my Penny, my raven in the rain, you kiss me with a silver tongue and call the hunger gain. You’re a dime in a darkened room, a ten beneath the veil, and every time I think I’ve won, I find myself for sale. Oh, Penny, my Penny, what a beautiful crime you promise me tomorrow if I give you tonight. She knows the ways of lonely men, the ones who never kneel, the ones who make their bargains with a hunger they conceal. She whispers like a lover through the keyhole of my sleep: “Come closer, darling, closer still there’s treasure buried deep.” I asked her what she wanted. She answered, “What you have.” I said, “And what will you give me?” She smiled and said, “your time.” Her perfume smelled of midnight. Her breath was warm with sin. She had the eyes of someone who had already been. Oh, Penny, my Penny, my raven in the rain, you kiss me with a silver tongue and call the hunger gain. You’re a dime in a darkened room, a ten beneath the veil, and every time I think I’ve won, I find myself for sale. Oh, Penny, my Penny, what a beautiful crime you promise me tomorrow if I give you tonight. She told me, “Love is expensive, but desire is almost free. The richest man in heaven still owes something to the sea.” Then she loosened her black ribbon and the moon forgot to shine. I could not tell if she was flesh or merely something mine. There are women born of roses. There are women born of flame. Penny was born of wanting, and wanting knows no name. And I heard a bird behind the wall, beating once against the night. It called me by my secret name and vanished from the light. Penny laughed like broken glass: “Darling, don’t you grieve. A man who wants to keep his soul must first decide what he can leave.” So I gave her one more hour. She took another three. And somewhere in the darkness she became a part of me. At dawn she left a penny where her head had touched the bed. I picked it up and heard her voice still turning in my head. She said, “You thought you bought me.” I said, “I know I did.” She said, “Then why are you still paying for the night that never ends?” I turned the little coin around. Her face was looking back. One side promised fortune. The other promised black. Oh, Penny, my Penny, my raven in the rain, you kiss me with a silver tongue and call the hunger gain. You’re a dime in a darkened room, a ten beneath the veil, and every time I think I’ve won, I find myself for sale. Oh, Penny, my Penny, my sweet and bitter wine, I’ll spend my last tomorrow just to purchase one more night. Penny never asks me to stay. She only leaves the door ajar. And I, poor fool, keep following that little silver star. For some women want your heart. Some women want your name. Penny wants your hours and somehow… that’s the same.
