Lipstick-Sad (day 1532)

Imagine the soul of a man
Walking streets past midnight –
Mini skirt and platforms
On a warm clear-skied romance.
But it’s not romance without a date;
Sidewalks scream lonesome
With a handbag and lipstick-sad
Long eyes on a Thursday.
Imagine the shoes of a stranger
Who yells inside a locked door
Made-up and scraping edges
Without a namesake callin’ them home.

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