designated washer, scrubber,
some dirt, brown burnt fire marks,
impervious to edgy pads, now,
aged into the very being of our
cooking hardware

can only be removed
by human fingernail

as I scrape away residues of years gone by,
mine tears amalgamate in the soapy waters
beneath my bent head

for I cannot remiss/remove
the oldest, burnt,
bottom of the pan,
stains between us,
not with embraces,
nor with whimsy recollections,
certainly not with our
fingernails...