Ella

The arc of her frown, splices lovely days, slugs Vodka when she's down, Macy's, the Five and Dime, New York alley ways, she'll rob any moonshine, won't hang around, in a sun that frays, her search for holy ground, the black lonely night, where all debt get paid, she knows what's right, they'll make no sound, if she delays, to keep open her mouth, , she's done with this Town, stars shift in her gaze, walks river bound, eyes like trays.