I am good at being single.
I am getting used to it.
I heat pizzas for one
and laugh at my own jokes.

I am independently minded,
and find fun as the third wheel.
I watch demoralizing chick flicks,
have daytime fantasies of serendipitous meetings.

I am self sufficient.
I eat lucky charms for dinner
and sleep late
in the middle of the bed.

I am bad at being single.
I look and wait, but
I don’t know where to find him.

And when I do find someone I like,
I have named our children,
before I look at his left hand.

When I feel lonely
I don’t know where to turn.
I settle for my cat.

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