lady*

dry rancid laughter
rings through the smoke
heavy, weary
in alley darkness

a voice breaks
in a jagged scrape
as she sings
breaking through

the noise
the pin-prick
vulnerability
shielded by pride

finding her way
with familiar, bitter ease
she laughs at them,
their glass hearts

she sings
the crowd weeps
she smokes
she lives tomorrow. 

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*thoughts on listening to Lady by Regina Spektor