She knows it's only right to be imperfect,
sitting barefoot with her feet
tangled in the blankets.
She turns away from the window and
back to the empty walls. Back to her
Dolce & Gabbana shirt, the picture of the
girl in the cafe next to her,
the warmth of the covers, the singularity of
the word "her," meaning alone.
She wants it all, but she knows
she won't ever have it.
copyright Maya Ganesan, 2009