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5th and Main

By Eric Brown | April 1st, 2008 | Category: Literature, Poetry |

fifth_main Lipstick glowing red
in the light
of neon signs.
A dress
made of cotton
and lace…

Face in the mirror
must belong
to a stranger.
Can’t be hers,
tear streaked.
She needs to smoke.

Clock on the nightstand
flashes 12:00 AM.
What time is it?
Late.
Time to go.

Where to go
though?
She heads
for the door.
Leaving her stockings
in shreds
on the floor.

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