by Felino Soriano

Daily rituals, romanticized.
Glamour, beyond the glossy
photographs across faces
of immovable billboards,
those with bulging reddened lips
supposedly beautiful,
but in the actuality of reality's
open book, her in the refection
of passersby equates to emotional
atrophy. Her objectivity flattens,
spins first forth landing awkwardly
available in front of the many desensitized,
almost flickering, two-dimensional,
shaking silvery satirized shadows,
mirroring the familiar famous, allegorical,
insidious story regarding an underground
cave of delusional prisoners.

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