the word.

she says it
like she says all her words
short and constant
fading colors

as she drops her papers,
or wakes up late,
stumbling over
the stumbling floor

she says it
the way the trainman
punches our tickets.
cliclick

the faucet turns on
you rinse your hands
the faucet turns off
you flick flick flick

that's how she says it,
that's how she says shit.

No comments: