A night girl takes the blame

Plaster after plaster simply to pave

A way for a better life.

“Where is her shame?”



Asks the dolled up go-go wife

Leading her husband by his tie

Like a collar around his neck. Sick.

As she parades, reckless to strife.



And the mistress?

The same black tint that he kisses

at home, here pours and pours

On every visit.



A discarded mascara bottle,

discarded amore.