Sink Full of Dishes
because my lover
touched it
I’m dreaming about breaking
this glass in backyard grass
instead of washing it
I want to burn
my body from the center
of its petals
and out
fire ceasing only in ash
I pick up the candle to drink
but my quick flame
is quenched
6 thoughts on "Sink Full of Dishes"
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I pick up my candle to drink. What a great line.
Love how something so mundane as a sink full of dishes suddenly ignites into something more. Lovely!
thank you!
i find a lot of poems are born when i’m doing chores/things that allow the mind to wander into connections.
Great ending, Nicole.
Melva, thank you! Naturally occurring poems are gifts. <3