In the Elevator

by Amanda Lombardo

there is not enough time to explain
that my bright fuzzy slippers were a gift, and
I only wear them ironically,
that the empty boxes of diet bars I’m holding are
my roommate’s, not mine,
that my cat almost ran out the door on my way out,
so please excuse the look of concern and disheveled hair.
I promise I don’t always look like this​, I think to myself, as the woman from five
steps from a magazine cover
into the elevator and looks me up and down.