Friday Night

Friday night

The buzzes and cha cha cha

video game oeuvre

in the background

A blue light glows off of

Little Tatiana’s smooth face

I’ve escaped my world

and entered hers

My college roomate

bras and solo heels and half filled hampers

in her bedroom

open cabinet doors in the kitchen

swiffer leans against the wall

in the living room

ready for combat

Here perfection is the enemy of the good

The good liberates me

with its disarray

I feel better


I’m lying on her bed

She’s reading me her

heart in words

We’re both shuddering

with tears

In college we didn’t cry

Now we’ve surrendered

Both of us no longer

allowed our fantasies

or escapes

Sobriety, our life’s challenge

Her red bra hangs in the open closet

behind her

We are still women after all

Though I forget most of the time

We live in a moment, not of regrets,

but of acknowledgement.

Our pain

is our soul