
“Baby in a baby carriage,” she thinks the man who walks by thought.
She needs the seeds of love just like everyone else, and most men use that to get her out of her blouse and into their bed on a weekend night because of the bulge she tries to hide. Because anything seems possible by the lamp light and bright neon signs that blanket the dark alleyways of life.
She’s hard, but soft; pushing a stroller in thought across a cracked-parking-lot.
No comments:
Post a Comment