Laura

She sits, one leg thrown carelessly
across the couch, the other hanging
her foot not quite reaching the floor
in a pair of Crayola-blue jeans
rivaling Brooke Shields' for tightness.
They are paired with
of course
the season's hottest fashion,
a terry cloth tee.
I see her belly button,
an aberration on the smooth surface
of her still hairless abdomen area.
She smacks cinnamon gum
while singing to the Cover Girl commercial
flickering on the screen.
Her nose flares slightly.
China doll brown eyes
betray the hypnotic state
she resides in at the moment.
The commercial changes,
she adapts her key and volume,
never missing a beat.