Outsiders

The Mumbai rain
back-lit by the sodium-vapor lamps sweeping the cityscape
shimmering, gold-hued, majestic,
yet looking lonely and lost 
as that vulnerable hooker
trying to appear bold, audacious
her bruises and scars
carefully painted-up in that gloss
arched eyebrows raised
a cigarette dangling from
obscenely reddish lips,
in permanent pout
or, is it suppressed anger? 
high heels short skirt— the universal dress of a young body-seller first recorded by a French poet as a restive flaneur standing quietly, nearby a vagabond and his skeletal cur on that deserted stretch, being watched. Waiting, yet not—for some rom-com ending or, a Disney-world Cinderella outcome, happy for the bourgeois viewers in their costly apartments or, perhaps—for a modern miracle in a cynical market, that may or may not happen, in real-time! Published in https://www.verse-virtual.org/
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