Knackered, exhumed, drawn-out,
H & M tempts, siphoning up the remnants of me through a straw hat,
bidding me with flesh-striped leggings, to sport my way over,
fly over the stationary traffic,
to zone out the time-wasters,
to make mockery of the drivers queuing for home.
I take off …
up and over,
and hover around the aisles looking for a taste of
Something young enough
for a forty-something young lady, with a touch of silver –
to bring out the grey.
A sequinned dress,
a stick-thin, pinned-out, silvery-sliver for an office party,
just the job for the grey.
Grab and dash.
Give it a try.
Squeeze in, inhale, diminish, deflate and snap.
A broken zip.
Shattered. Wings smashed.