Goddess of Tower 9

Some light sci-fi verse, about a janitor in a not-too-distant dystopian future who sees the girl of his dreams …

I’ve seen you walk here many times, in uniform of grey:
Thin fronds of jet black teasing from your hood, your rosy smile
Unlike the tense-lipped tolerance of cleanup crew’s delay
As we make pristine clean this stretch of skyway, our own mile.