Red lips, matching shoes;
A gust of blonde hair,
a cigarette.
She pulls her jacket
tight,
exhaling,
waiting.
Mondays are the
worst - school.
Tuesdays she gets
off work early.
Wednesdays, Thursdays,
fill in the blanks.
Falls in love with Fridays.
Saturdays are an affair,
Sundays are the breakup.
A light drizzle,
rainy fog,
her bus pulls up.
Today she'd be punctual.
No comments:
Post a Comment