Die­ses sehr per­sön­li­che Gedicht wur­de vor eini­gen Jah­ren von einem unse­rer Mit­glie­der geschrie­ben — für die vie­len Sex­wor­ker, die welt­weit Opfer von Gewalt wer­den und viel zu oft ihre Tätig­keit sogar mit ihrem Leben bezah­len müs­sen. Anläss­lich des dies­jäh­ri­gen Tages gegen Gewalt an Sex­wor­kern dür­fen wir den Text hier ver­öf­fent­li­chen — vie­len Dank dafür. this is not a love song you know me I’m an escort girl and my heels prick the ice like spikes my brain to amu­se you my mouth to prai­se you my sen­sua­li­ty keeps you warm my siren’s song whis­pers the way and my hea­ven­ly scent reli­e­ves you in your end­less days but once a year after the petals have wil­ted and befo­re the first snow starts fal­ling my voice rai­ses into a grue­so­me howl a song in a choir of grief, ine­vi­ta­ble sung by all my glo­bal mates for all the vic­tims fal­len and woun­ded in the batt­le of life for their fami­lies and fri­ends on the 17^th of decem­ber we throw our fists in the air from hands that always care that stro­ke fluffy balls and wea­ry heroes that embrace that are not made to hold cand­les We’­re rea­ching out to the lost exten­ding our hands to their souls our fra­gi­le voices rea­ching the sky to com­me­mo­ra­te tho­se who met their fate while it is not real­ly fate at all but vio­lence, stig­ma and mur­der purely made by man and his accom­pli­ces juris­dic­tion and a bru­tal legis­la­ti­on they dis­grace the name of jus­ti­ce not my mates who lost their lives who lost their lives in pur­su­it to bring hap­pi­ness and adult fun pure enter­tain­ment wit­hout obli­ga­ti­on by a ser­vice made with com­mit­ment and love why this aver­si­on and aggres­si­on against us? what have we done? © Aria­ne 2011