A million faces, voices without traces.
Lives occupied by tube, regressed oppression
Realities lube. Doors open, doors close.
Clicking heels shuffling trainers, skirts
Too short, frown too long. Death clinging
In the air to skin, to hair. Lungs filling
With someone elses dead skin. Everyone
Fantasising about anothers sin.
Everyone fantasising about anothers sin.
Karen Hayward ©2016 (image and words)