i wonder what she wears

i wonder what her hobbies are,

and how she finds her way

i wonder

if she’s ever bored

or late

or lonely

without the glow

our phones on the middle

of the table

like candles

like altars

like tiny gods

we are trying not to worship

i’m tired and

my window to the world

has no curtains

i want to close my eyes

i’m tired and

my window to the world

has no curtains

the only calls we received

were from our mother,

telling us to

come home,

dinner was on the table

there was no algorithm

to drill us into compliance

no one to tell us:

you are behind

you are cutting your onions wrong

you need to buy this thing (and this one and this one)

you are a rat girl joan didion girl soft girl clean girl iphone face never enough girl