shoes

Her shoe broke

on the brick

sidewalk,

a hollow heel

followed by

a hollow trot

like the sound

of a horse.

‘Thats so punk’

he told her

when she crossed

her  legs revealing

the wounded

sole.

She stared at

the coffee drop

rolling down

the edge of the

table.

How bizarre it

was to her that her

scattered stains,

loose strings

and hollow heels

could be anything

other than the

manifestation of

her own demons,

that perhaps

it could

be something

 

punk.

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