Madame Maserati takes her usual seat by the river, at the foot of the red corporate canyon. She lights her usual cigarette, sends her usual text to her usual lover, draws a number of times
See my soul, exposed and helpless, gossamer frosted-sugar shell. Shatters at each careless jolt, melts at every touch. Catch my eyes, unprotected and naïve, betrayers of my soul.
Monday morning larceny, I steal your time and drink your tea. One child to school, one still in bed, homework checked and pets are fed. You’ve taught me some amazing facts.