My best friend gave me

all her “women” for my journey.

A big stack of poetry collections,

to work through in the tearful nights,

building strength as I build endless fires,

for the endless cold.

I dog-eared a few pages,

and made notes in margins,

but it’s only pencil.

In the mornings, I read rupi kaur,

and push open the dirty curtains

to let the sun come up

through the frosted windows.

I brew tea on the propane stove

because the fire takes too long and I’m too cold.

But at night,

by the light of candles, flames dancing

in the draft,

I read Sylvia Plath.

And I let the darkness settle

where it will.

One Reply to “Indulgences.”

  1. I like your stories Allie. I really get a sense of where you are and how you see life. Cheers Ron

    Sent from my iPhone



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