Against a Wall

Two women lean their backs
into the arch of a glass sky,
spirits laid bare and free,
a painting on a wall.

Their bodies are blooming
soft as silk sun, and they’re
filled with irony and life,
adoring imperfections.

For them, ordinary is weak,
and fork-clean. Friends
in-sync, neuro ad neuro.
Like a final quit-cigarette.

Women always lean back
on a voice that they own.