In the Window (Day 127)

Fifteen minutes and a gnawing hunger 

turned me inappropriately toward 

the local donut store where in college 

before we avoided sugar and fat 

I used to go with my roommate 

for Sunday morning debriefings and 

perhaps one of us arrived once 

or twice in a black dress and high heels 

with a sinuous swagger no one called

the walk of shame even if it was 

pretty lame to sit in the window across from 

your groundbreaking computer engineer 

roommate who spent her evening building 

things you still don't understand while 

you flirted in vain and looked sexy 

in your fuck-me shoes which her mother 

would have killed her for wearing 

not that she ever considered it being 

far more practical than you and therefore 

not majoring in Victorian Poetry.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

PS. Roommate is often in one's thoughts, and one wishes her much joy.