A phantom pale leg hovers above the crowd –
floating, disembodied, naked;
she picks up her pace, pushing forward,
eyes locked on the hollow leg,
suggestion of body, dismemberment,
titillation of flesh … as image rains the evening news.
In rocky moments walls collide;
in painless charade her time lies spent,
although in reverie, chaste unkind,
she enjoys herself at this local market.
These mannequins leap lifeless dance,
as bra displays disintegrate busty torsos –
weary imperfections on display.
In the wilderness, brooks spin dry webs,
while birds perch the woods, never
singing sadness, untouched by desolate mannequins.