The ground 24 floors below
Invites you to step off the ledge
See your whole life flash past
…and singe the night air with embers
Of my ego plastered with Paris
Past lingers on, the perfume stays in bed
All day to wake lazy toes.
What's a guy like you doing with a man like that, you ask
You mind, I love him, she says, I really do.
Here I am on the threshold of thirty
An old maid to family, friends and acquaintances
Who've toed the line and produced children
For social respectability.
Funny how the grime suits temples.
The Gods seem aloof otherwise.
While I pray,
A lady jostles through mass hysteria