Sell It All

Sell the loner’s hope...

Sell It All

Sell that mascara stare,
and your low-cut hips,
your well-trimmed quips,
your after-shampoo hair.

Sell the low-hung moon,
And the swaying trees,
in a well-timed breeze,
the evening’s soft swoon. 

Sell the lover’s quake,
and the hobo’s jar,
Sell the drinkers’ bar,
and the searcher’s rake.

Sell the loner’s hope,
the need to belong,
and Lak…