She wanted a little room for thinking,
another for sleeping with strangers
she’d meet in out-of-the-way bars.
A space for counting the slights
she endured during her time at work
delivering proposals to bored boardroom
colleagues waiting to escape to ski slopes.
She needed a room for stitching desire
into slinky black dresses, another
for dinner meals taken alone in dim light.
A cage for her anger, a den for self-pity,
and a large cavern to hold the echoes of her dreams.