She's a bag.
Hanging loosely, swaying silently
Against a rhythmic rump.
Filled with mementos of gaiety,
lipsticks, lists, gum wrappers,
small change, she's
daily displayed;
flaunted before masses of coveting eyes.
She entices.
Man-stalked nightly, she's
snatched — grabbing fingers rip, greedily
plunder, then
discard her.
She dies trash.