Not home

Yet again,
You’re. Not. Home.

So I’m
Dancing with the kittens
In the kitchen,
Wearing my jim jams
Drinking jammy red wine,
Singing immaculately to Madonna’s
Immaculate Collection whilst
Eating chocolate as I make
Beans. On. Toast. For. Tea.
I’m going to watch
Trash on TV
And recklessly not
Put the trash out
(Even though it’s bin night…)

I’m still dancing.

And I’m having the
Best. Night. Ever.
Just with me.

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3 thoughts on “Not home

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