The woman sticks her head out the window
and breathes in heavy air,
fog swimming down her throat into
unsettled stomach. Grumbles and groans
under the weight of morning dew. She can almost
taste the grass from here, imagine the way
it blows in a breeze she hasn’t felt in years.
It used to move her, slide her hair down her
back and now she always wears it up, those
bright red locks tied away where no one can ever
find them. Wet hands glide across glass pane and it is only
now that she realizes her head feels a little too heavy
on her neck. Necklace throbs
against collarbone and maybe
it’s the loneliness, she thinks, the desperate
way she hears the birds chirping
in some unknown distance and she wonders
what it would feel like to move.
She takes a step
away from the window.