head back on the lamppost she let out a deep sigh and set her legs slack against the rock and roll fever of midnight urban traffic. out on the street, she took on the mirage of a harnessed mare with hyena eyes of a shaded sun hanging low over jutting building corners. yesterday passed by into tomorrow and left her to suffer through, cowering between knobby knees, today. she packaged herself on the lamppost illuminating the dying ginkho. tuesday wore a pink sweater, and she gracefully trembled in matching green. eyes closed, she clenched her toes. spasmodically, she laughed. she felt naked.

the sun rose three hours later to all that was left of her a spilt cigarette.

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