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.