Gone Astray Angel

Gluttony-smeared lipstick
Applied in generous stokes
Across her face by the suit
Less than an hour before....
Glazed junkie eyes try to focus
On the glass frame reflection.
Slumping to her knees,
Can’t find her keys,
Not desperate, doesn’t care
About the danger behind her.
Her black silk bruised silhouette
Is pushed down by a sadistic shoe.
Thomas Jeffersons drift to the floor.
Clutching the green,
She hears the spit.
Disheveled,
She grabs her heels—to the next trick.