In the time it takes me
To devour a meal, her drink goes from
Three quarters full to half empty.

She looks out of the window at
Slumbering shops, across the room to
A middle aged couple, over her shoulder
To an ignored television, wondering
Which she is today.

She hides in monochrome clothing,
In hastily restrained hair,
In the internet of infinite nothing.

For how much longer
Can she leave her drink unfinished?

04/21/2016

Posted on 06/10/2016
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