Because it is easier being her. A flash in the black room where a disco light might catch her.
Why go home when she could stay entertaining the gaze of her next little fling?
She would rather not be real. Just a thing.
YOU ARE READING
Layercake
PoetryPoems that you might like to dip into. Places my brain has wandered when reflecting on the past. Ongoing work. New piece each week.
