some spaces to cry:

the edge of a sea green bathtub
because they shouldn’t be texting you

Monday chapel
if the worship team makes you sing songs about ashes

a full-length mirror crudely stuck to the wall
you’ll think you look like a monster

on Amazon
while looking for a cheap, single-serve coffee maker

the kitchen sink where you brush your teeth sometimes
this is where all the best ideas are born and the dishes don’t get washed

the newsroom after-hours
so, very late

a bed lofted above a desk, a dresser, and a shelf that is too small for all your books
but the tissues are on the ground so you have to climb down to blow your nose

on the phone with Mama
she’s your first call, always

the refrigerator with a green and white magnet that says “YAY! LLAMAS!”
when it’s midnight and you need milk to go with your mug of cereal

walking back to the apartment
don’t make eye contact with the people on the other side of the sidewalk

Friday chapel
this is your one day off from work

on the plane flying back to ORD from SFO
because suddenly Chicago feels like home

this is your sabbath
rest and release

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