Quarter-Life Crisis

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Casually, I slip into something more comfortable.
No coyness-
No wispy lingerie and feigned accidental black lace.

I’m in baggy sweat pants
And an XXL tshirt
that catches the crumbs of my Quaker rice cakes
as I watch reruns of “Fraiser.”

“We need to get out more.”
I suggest to my cat as she
Lounges on the floor and
Doesn’t make eye contact.

She has to be dewormed every six months.
I haven’t even had a good pregnancy scare this year.

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This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Quarter-Life Crisis

  1. This is wonderful. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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