she wakes to lavender
pooling in all her fleshy,
sorry nooks.
she had the dream
of all dreams last night:
staring through a dirty wine glass
like a drunken fortune teller
she saw life as it could be
by the softening glow of
holiday lights in city summer.
somewhere far from here
for the first time
she was good enough.
Nicole Marie
wordsandotherthings.wordpress.com 