Wondered always about the universe hidden within a velvet purse belonging to the old woman that lives on Raven Street. Rumors exist- a witch full of sin. She carries her baggage- a heavy curse, annoyed that another day must begin, and regrets becoming a nurse. Stars and galaxies drift among the lipstick, cheap peach blush, and toilet perfume breathing its quiet sighs- shaken as veined legs rush to their final destination. The temple of death, decay, and stifled mumbling- Doctor always has the last say, her suggestions and opinions pushed aside. Only silent walls stand by her side as she trudges through the day. In the end she is equal, since she too searches for the lost key that floats in the universe of her stuffed velvet purse. Frustration and broken dreams await her- along with curling smoke warm vodka and senseless chatter in the singles bar of failure.