Evening comes, your steps stagger.
The studio hums with leftover fragrance.
You wave a towel, try to carve clean air.
She asks softly: “Pressure good?”
You nearly faint against the counter.
Final client laughs, perfume shimmering.










Evening comes, your steps stagger.
The studio hums with leftover fragrance.
You wave a towel, try to carve clean air.
She asks softly: “Pressure good?”
You nearly faint against the counter.
Final client laughs, perfume shimmering.









