battered women
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Her eyes,Melting away,Into sadness,Into decay,People who,Describe her look,May say she's undecided,But not a crook,When she rises early in the morning,She makes no sound,
Rusty bricks painted by graffiti.
Lit neon flickered—
Quick Draw! ATM Inside!
Steam rose out of street grates
as if it were ghostly fingers come to carry sinners below.
The sign posted—
