I might get drunk tonight
on red wine and solitude
lost in the depths of a
full-bodied zin and the whir
of a palm-leaved fan.
Disappointment weighted
afternoon, damn fool who let
you in? Now I feel the scorched
earth aftermath while he eats a
well done steak.
A better woman might have
walked away, held her tongue,
but she does not live here.
I said my piece, now there’s
a consequence.
Pardon me, I’ll be in my room.
Praying for Eyebrowz 