we had left the sofa

we had made ourselves commute

we had adulted


miss you

work would be our comfort zone

we’d revel in the numbness

we’d glory in the boring


we’d play nice

we’d dress as if we meant it

black skirt, black tights, bright blouse

we’d fit right in, no one could tell


 the tables wouldn’t tumble


life would have a rhythm

in at nine, leave at five

days marked by the email ping


we’d be the girl


there’d be a cheery morning natter

although the folders greeting us

would be dark and dull and green


we were meant to be

it’d be alright

we’d have a place

admin would make us real


miss me


Danielle Salvadori