It’s she
She it’s
A large ghost,
A feather,
Large buttocks and breasts
You walk into work again
She’s there
This time you think you’ll be open
But she’s there again
With those eyes,
With that pussy,
Those eyes that seem protected by a jungle forcefield
She smiles vacantly
Later you will hear that she ditched her man
Because he had a small penis
Sometimes she asks for things
Other times she is just there
And this is what you have to do,
Your entire life,
Judged by your attributes,
A fraction of the rain