Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

NIN

She took my sewing machine.
The 1940’s yellow Kenmore
with the drop-in table.
The one I bought from Habitat for $40
and vowed I would use.
The one that sat in my bedroom
and then sat by the den sofa for 9 months collecting dust.
She thought it was cool
and well worth the $25 I was asking.
She was one of those hip East Nashville girls
with a NIN sticker and an Apple logo on the back of her truck.
She wore a spaghetti strap top and had a bob haircut
and was taking sewing classes in Berry Hill.
She was the kind of girl I wish I had been,
driving around in her vintage SUV
not sure what she’s going to do next with her life.
Unafraid.
In her twenties.
I can see her now
in her terra cotta cottage
sewing cool dresses and patching jeans,
making trendy hats she sells for $75
all on my little machine.
The moment she took it I wanted it.
It’s always like that.
I’ve never wanted anything
until it was gone.