The water makes her sore,
but the quench of the thirst is worth the pain.
Washing, sipping and rinsing.
With each whisp of breath a tear drops and binds and blends to the water cascading off her bosom.
The morning never comes too soon.
The smell of coffee begins to fill the room before the sun breaks the sad.
Not sober yet but still fabulous.
Cigarette perched waiting in its tray while the curling iron twirls the chestnut waves into life.
Eyeliner but never too much.
Polka dot blouse.
The morning is ready to be observed.
But still lonely.