She stands next to the no smoking sign Cigarette teasing a leap from her fingers She checks her watch He's not coming Her finger plays with a hole in the fishnet stockings her mother disapproves of She glances at the no loitering sign Five more minutes
I will not be pushed over the edge.
Fear emerges from a chrysalis and transforms into a kaleidoscope of dreams.
Between these lines are the things I really want to say.
Your perfume should be called Warning, Butterflies Ahead