Graffiti

She had peeled herself off the wall
Hair black tinged with green pulled up into a geisha bun
Eyes painted black and lips a cherry red
Her features, her silhouette
Harsh lines caught her mouth in a pout
Clutching her dress of black and white
She stumbled and scurried in front of me
Hurrying down the busy city street
Chased by the brush of her imaginary creator
I wished I had crayons
So I could color in a history, a home for her
And I could give her a name

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