When You’re No One’s Favorite Person (Deux)

Watching the snow fall feels different.

Your bones are warmed
by no one but you
and the fire you built.

No one is cheering you on.
Or offering you a cup of coffee
the way you like.

You’re a two sugars plus cream
kind of girl who has perfected
the art of a single brew.

There are no guests.
You’re touch-starved.
Living off the caress
of a bubble bath.

You’ve read
each book filled
with romance
and sensuality
while you sit in
your fuzzy slippers
devouring every page.
Savoring the last drips
of Pinot on your tongue.

When you’re no one’s favorite person,
love is in the details.
In the wilting remnants
of the flowers you
picked up last week.

It’s on your morning walks.
In the heat of the rising sun,
feeling your expansion in
every breath
in a world
where your smallness
is celebrated.

Love may not be what we found
in films or from stories spun
with glass slippers.
You make it your own.
Buy yourself the damn slippers.
Become our own favorite person.

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