hello world.
she checks the time,
7:30am, aims to grab
coffee, she’s late -
spent too much time
in interrogation with
the mirror, that blouse
is a bit low-cut don’t
you think? had to change
four times because she
has an important pitch.
tick tick tick, he cuts in
line and she lets him,
because she wasted her
words on the mirror.
she sits, navy skirt
pleated, penning notes
as he speaks; he grows
taller with every word,
with every proposal her
chair shrinks, the walls
rise. she watches as the
ceiling soars above her
reach, like her speech.
she picks up her brief-
case, another day done.
she walks down the
street, heels click and
her tights itch, but her
lipstick’s intact. she trips
on a pebble, can’t help
but pick it up. in the palm
of her hand it grows,
and she with it; her head
rises above stop signs,
above buildings, she eats
atmosphere, the stone turns
blue with careful specks
of green. she looks down
and says, “hello world.”
