Secret Password
posted 11 February 2010, 21:46 by Mike
she was well-folded cloth
breathless coffee mornings
she was bits and bits
grey cotton sweater
fat fingers
linoleum
rat traps
she was cold floors
beneath the sink
bare white windows
in the cellar
a door
she was 10th grade tshirt
almost ugly
soft fat belly
cheeks
she was awake
on monday
to the supermarket
washing clothes
painting her nails
she was new shoes on wednesday
thursday’s blind sky
like tuesday’s
already underneath her
at the computer moniter
at the kitchen table dreaming
she was dark friday night breathing
at twilight
little grey stereo songs
in the living room at sundown
locking the doors tightly
alone
smiling at the television
at something it said
she was awake
on saturday
on sunday night
cleaning her room
dinner plates
takes a shower before sleep
touching herself in bed
when she needs it like a friend
or a new house
and when it was morning
illuminated
beside the door
beside the kitchen cabinet smoking
without thought
the way she feels music
while driving to work
heals her
the way she sees the curtains
move forward
so that it’s sometimes a hand
when it isn’t
she was plastic gold frames
with pictures
and lottery tickets
and old receipts
she was a bedroom
where the cracks
like inverted trees
on the ceiling
open their branches as if to say something
in a loud voice
to everything
to make it known
then sits back down
to study the patterned walls
sketched with rough flowers in a rope
tracing their path around the house
around her