Picture bought in a Noumea, New
shop that prompted the following poem.
The Little Harlot
Strange little girl with
You look so innocent and young,
Yet appearances lie, do they not?
What illusions of love
Do you harbor in your heart?
And for how many coins
Have you traded love
Even though we shall never
I will keep this picture of you
And as I grow old, so shalt thou,
And fifty years from now
I will say hello to you again.