Silent and alone, I flow through shops with so many
windows, but I see nothing except the faces around me, the ones
who might believe I'm more gossamer than the shawls and tunics
meant to disguise us all as ethereal hippies in the New Age.

Silent and alone, I stand by the fountain, waiting
for something to break the sleepiness of solitude when
two men spot me: mouths parted, eyes appraising, judging, appreciating my physical worth. Rooted in place, I smile.
Only when they look at me do I have purpose.