Decadent Panties

Winter strikes Heather fertile;
even her jeans aren't able
to keep all of her eggs
in one basket.

She wakes up to icy windows
decorated with the same lacy pattern
as her underwear,
and notes grimly
that this season has no sense
of privacy.

Inconceivably, Heather hates children
but wants the warmth
of something in her womb
to keep her from turning frigid.

She gives one last lonely glance
out the window
before wrestling into her jeans and mumbling
another broken vow of abstinence.

Winter strikes Heather fertile;
there are too many beds
in this city for just one girl,
but she will try filling them anyways.