Collected

These highway wanderers

with dirty ankles on scuffed heels

in plastic skirts and bangles

with patchwork backpacks.

They snap gum and

twist bleached curls

around thin smoke-stained fingers

dipped in chipped polish.

Old and yet young,

their scent fills the cabin

as they lean in close

for a whispered price.

I collect them all.

Amy.  Frannie.  Jenny. Liz...

Each name

the same prize

that only I keep

when they are gone.