solitary

(http://www.trendhunter.com/trends/mary-jane-ansell)

the girl knits a collection

of odds and ends –

 

various plastic containers,

glass jars for holding candlelight,

vintage books as coffee coasters –

 

this is how she values herself.

 

she scatters them like tiny diamonds

into the folds of her tiny home and

waits, broad-shouldered, for someone

to ask what she thinks of late at night.

 

where most would turn their heads

she curls tired branchy fingers around

a decades old mirror that fogs at the

edges; she sees nothing in its frame

and desperately she buys it anyway.

 

then there is this:

 

she is cooking for two

with eyed potatoes from

the three-tiered fruit basket

beside her kitchen window.

 

a single battered apple

is sliced into depressing

origami shapes on an

old cutting board.

 

a chilled pot of coffee complete

with floating sediment is placed

beside two ceramic mugs each

depicting the flag of New Mexico.

 

she sets the table with

her bones as cutlery and

folds her hands in prayer,

thanks no one for such a feast.

 

she unfolds a newspaper in

her lap – August 3rd, 1998 –

and looks across at herself,

every morsel already gone.