Ladies' night is in retrograde
My gorgeous friends are throwing martinis
back and you’re made of something divine
I say to myself in the mirror—just to see
how my mom’s hand looks on me
this blueish bloom of veins
like tunnels leading me to lose
a gold earring in a depressed guy’s room
i won’t be going back the way i came
remember? the special occasion
the moot conversation
how our children might be ugly
think my unborn daughters a scorpio
think i’ll eviscerate a star
feeling full of olives and sexy
feeling bored with the way you text me
tomorrow i rise like a golden raisin
hot from my own sun.
Kate is a writer living in Brooklyn, New York.