i’ve had what she’s having
Maybe she does it better. More girly on the spectrum. More invested in the feminine than cynics like me, who frock baggy sweat pants. The uniform that signals I’ve quit the lip gloss and fake lashes. Quit the business of a woman.
She’s quit the business of a man. Pink fingertips tapping at the menu. Fling of scarf against shoulders tattooed like a Popeye sailing off to save her inner Olive.
Maybe she’s been pricked by too many spindles. Maybe I’ve been kissed by too many toads. We both order salads. Maybe we’re sisters. Cousins of the wench who took that first bite out of the apple.