A pregnant woman smells a *** of

lavender, while running her fingers in

mince meat.

A gold crucifix's vintagey over-gleam, as

it pokes her cleavage line.

While cameras follow her sigh to a copse

outside the kitchen window--whose

distant image shrinks with signified

exhalation.

Now she's on a cable rerun no one is

watching.

Something fidgets at such odds--like that

can't be, & what's not happening will

come back with avengance.

A fictional character that memorized her

lines, & acted out of character.

As the scene called for her to act out of

character--but ended up being her true

self.

Non-acting in a scene written around her

maternity leave.

Filmed during the seventies, the set had

a lot of MASH-green, as if put together

from a present day thriftshop.

Believably lived-in, the dizzyingly

unplaceable scent-stain of home-cooked

meals, what people used to smell like.

A far more forgiving zeitgeist--whereas

even her true self seemed like subpar

acting.

This particular episode was at peak

viewership, what force drew all that

free time?

Perhaps the same force that plays its

rerun, at the same time it airs in a

parallel universe.

Coincidentally--her son is among those

not watching the rerun he bulged her

stomach in.