Unneeded One
6.18.08

The train steams in-
The kettle cries out-
On tracks and burner, respectively.

Her quiet hair sits like orange peels on staunched shoulders, and
a million desires belong to the space within, to themselves.
There is no unneeded thing.

She is shaken-
He is spilt-
On linoleum and stove, respectively.

Her loud eyes sit like paint in framed sockets, and
in these walls it is all loosely absorbed in frayed flowered fabric.
Except for her.