// dirty dishes

It’s wild, I think to myself

While doing the dishes

Watching the suds rise and fall

How much you consume

off my plate

Unaware

Of how much I

continuously

unabashedly

senselessly

hopelessly

set out at the table.

 

But

for what?


I scour the plate
Halfheartedly calling out

rhetorical questions

Won’t you stay?

For a drink?

For dessert?

For conversation?

For an extra helping of reconciliation?

I turn off the water

Much to my chagrin
and you’ve headed out

wordlessly

Mysteriously

 

It’s time to move on, time to dry!

But I’m not up for it

I cast the towel aside,

Draped neatly over the bar of the oven

And fix some black coffee instead.

xx

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