The woman sighs
her depression
without a clue
as to how to resolve
her orgasms.
She teeters between
sanity and
suppression.
Organizing her
closets into
colour-coded
escapes.
She flees into them
when the telephone
rings too often.
The cold, hard floor
displays a circus
of purposes.
She selects her
costume carefully,
applying her make-up
as if preparing
for a war.
The woman walks
like a conquering heroe,
the sound of her
footsteps
denying her
surrender.
She only askes
to be left alone.