permission

most days, i relish my freedom

to live according to my desires

alone. master of my own whims, i spend

the morning reading dogs in park slope

because i felt like it. turn off

my phone at will. starfish across

my bed. my days governed

by my rhythms, rising, eating

and sleeping untethered

by obligation to a better half.

part of no magical we, i forge

my own path, my independence

a foregone conclusion. but

wrist injured and shoulders aching,

burdened by a cornucopia of groceries,

i find myself wishing i had someone

to share some of my weight.