She sprawls under a domed sky
full of stars and smog and searchlights
undulating in seizures of ecstasy and strife.
The venerable old Madame, full of charm and madness;
dripping in diamonds
stinking of sewage.
She is loved and despised in equal measure
and feared most of all.
She pays no mind to us.
We are ants intruding upon the summer picnic of her memories.
Pests to feed or stomp as fancy suits her.
We are meaningless in the face of her reverie.
Her thoughts center on herself.
Cotillions, decadence, scandals, depravity.
The southern belle who missed her debut.
Miss Havisham, waiting for a wedding that will never happen.
She is consumed by a dream while all around her decays.