Before the rats came, following the wavering fishline of her newborn cry, they found her among pearly slime of gutted mussel shells, fish rot, jackfruit rind, and scabbed plastic in the harbor dump. Sixteen and solemn, walled in her street stand's ink perfume by the gloss of fashionable faces, as well as @3Time@1 and @3Fortune@1, she waits behind the gray rain-drape of the monsoon for a face to match her mirrors'. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEPPO: A VENETIAN STORY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE MESSAGES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE WHITE SHIP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI FOUR THINGS [TO DO] by HENRY VAN DYKE THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING by WALT WHITMAN BY THE SALPETRIERE by THOMAS ASHE THE DEATH OF HAMPDEN by PAKENHAM THOMAS BEATTY |