Hair dryer
By samhennig
Mon, 23 Dec 2019
- 264 reads
We cannot find words
to comfort or understand,
I try to explain; that’s not
who I am. But the things I
said are written in my hand.
You sit on the floor in front
of a full length mirror and
dry your hair. I sit next door
and the sound makes it there,
as if to say; you did this.
I can feel you waiting for
an explanation. Through walls,
through noiseless air. I can
feel it; I have none. I search
excuses or platitudes.
I wish I was more. You lie
in an avocado bathtub and wash
in cold water. I sit downstairs
and the sound doesn’t falter;
it shouts; you did this.
Why would you understand?
I don’t.
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