exhaustion
the electric massager
works away at my feet,
so that when i pull them out,
they’re red
my eyes are heavy
as the sun sinks,
& i think about all
of my sorrow
the sun will rise,
& i will be rested,
ready to brace a new day
because that’s what we do
the massager powers off,
& i dream about a human hand
working over my calluses,
pressing their thumb into my sole