a one woman act

what would happen if you gave one woman
a bottle of wine and internet access?

first, she will go into the bathroom
and meticulously cut her hair
(she has no hair)
so perhaps she is seeking a sense of control and
hair manipulation is her domain.

nonetheless, she will settle into the kitchen table
and start to write.

she might remember that she was eager for this
evening time alone.
that she tucked her children into bed
and was looking forward to a sense of freedom of

self.

but when it came time, it brought a friend named

alone.

there are times to be.
she is not afraid of being.
but there are times she yearned
for connection.

for the night at the neighborhood bar.  the dinner party.
the person on the train rubbing her feet.
instead, she was staring at a tree full of lights,
a dishwasher running, and Facebook
remembering when there were adults
(or kids playing adults) available
for wining, dining, and (shhh…)
playful debate.

there are moments like this
when she thinks about waking
her children from slumber and declaring
“oops, i was wrong.  let’s keep screaming,
singing, throwing food, and getting frustrated
at what we can’t do yet.”

please come back.

but that has never happened.
she is smart enough to write instead.
sometimes she calls and leaves you a
wacky voicemail (insert laughter)

but for now, she fills her glass and smiles.
sometimes there isn’t an answer.
but there always is something.