Tuesday, April 7, 2015

April 7

Dishwater Blonde

Hail pelts gravel eyelids 
that part to expose
milky salamander cataract puddles
Bra strap slips from one shoulder
Smoky mascara, liquid ash, asterisk eyes
Strings of hair plastered to the back of her neck
Fogged over microwave door
overturned Tupperware
The boom of a passing jet, lightning crack,
car backfire, the ding signifying
that your soup is done
Steam rises from the holes in your throat,
from the water collected in your cupped palms
She smiles and tugs a strand of hair
away from her mouth, staining her fingers
greasy red, counts aloud
as the brave droplets release their grip
from the lips of the faucet.

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