She
stops at the isle of gold lane and haze
holding her head up whine and gaze
that haughty look wander in space

She
Frowns
unhappily
on a bench across the street
intense perplexity
under her clouds
in a dark city

She
pouring arrogance
egocentric maiden
fear her own imperfection

He
"She's in manufacturing business"

"What does she manufacture?"

**Unhappiness