She sold
her teeth.

She sold
her hair.

Now she’s
only a tunnel.

No one knows
what’s left.

She has only
one concern.

There’s
kindness there.

Buried six
feet deep.

She can’t
look anymore.

The streets
before her
seem to shuffle.

Are there
souls underneath
those roofs?

Can you guess
for just a buck?

All the
houses tip over.

There isn’t
a single soul underneath
but loads of bodies.