TRASH ME

After being stabbed perhaps I am a woman with a mini skirt and pink shirt. Lovely life is passing by at the airport in form of the feet. Slowly passing by. The Arabian slippers shuffle, European ones’ soundlessly shift away, Indians shift, Africans stump with their pretty shoes. And the rest of the kitchen of so cold humanitarian aid. Trashy all around eat the waste of the humanity. I am trash. Trash me with all your plastic. On your high (heels)

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