woman on a bench with her eyes closed

inspired by Nan Goldin

She fits twelve, unopened cans of Miller Light in her see-through pocketbook because in the summertime she is at her thirstiest, yet no one wakes her, asleep on the bench, in white dress with the flowers like blood stains embroidered to hide the real stains, with cigarette still in mouth and white ribbon in her hair like an angel. Because she was one once, because she always was.