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Dish Wash

Soap suds spilling Inside my gloved hands All over the kitchen floor Will these dishes be clean As clean as the kitchen floor As clean as the dining table As clean as my heart is able.

Off with my rubbered hands Hot, heated, hatred Water scalding naked skin A favoured dish breaks It cuts across the bubbles It cuts the meat of my palm It cuts at my will, once strong

Sharp shards shift shyly As I collect pieces of dish The bag fills quite banally A sigh escapes a trembled lip I pick up and throw it out I pick up and throw us out I pick up and throw you out

#cleansing #dishes #poetry

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