Lipstick and Bullets
Raindrops spatter upon acrid pavement.
Umbrellas, tens and thousand in number
brush against one another,
a meager precaution taken
against the persistent precipitation.
A scream pierces the foggy air,
crimson pools around ivory skin,
Deeper in color than even her rouged lips,
parted with the echo of her eerie shriek;
Now silenced by the bullet within her.
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