You were the hands
Of course the laundromat goes quiet. I glance around. We're all shocked. I catch the eyes of a little girl. Hair in pigtails. She looks scared.
I walk in the mud by the river. The mud is cold. The mud swallows one foot, then the other. It's hard to remove my foot, the mud won't let me.
Woke up alone today in my own bed
after a solid sleep for the first time
in over three weeks, feeling strange there,
I used to think my father was a baseball card.