WOMAN ON THE COUCH

The orange flowers look painted
The woman with her lipstick and eye-shadow
Peeling wounds from a year-old break-up
She sips the sugared coffee
Changes the channel compulsively
Where is she going on a miserable day?
On the shabby couch she twists and turns
Waiting for a phone call that isn't coming
She pulls back golden hair with dry hands
Wants to cry it all out of her but can't
In the end she settles for a shower and a sleep
And some solace deep in day-glow dreams

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