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.