she just looks, half-believing…a cigarette dangling, she’s half-
insane, looking for an out; she’s hard, she’s scared, she’s been
fooled, taken, abused, used, over-
used…
but, under all that, to me she’s the flower, I see her as she was
before she was ruined by the lies: theirs and
hers.
to me, she’s new again as I am new: we have a chance