The Barbed Butterfly
the barbed butterfly
she shimmied onto a barstool
looking for a nine to five reprieve
a fight or a night
which ever came her way
black pencil skirt pulled up so far
jacket slung across the chair
says I don't care
it's Friday.
g and t with a slice of lime
melts her
slick cocoon.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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