I am in a wistful mood
I can’t decide if I want to be cast in a period drama
or just the type of person who sews
her own clothes
I see plight in everything
the moon
the mound of pens
the streetlights
that bow their heads
outside my bedroom window
like sorrowful thin men
ashamed
of some irreversible
crime
all of us
so fastened
to what we are.