How do you manage to embrace me
With embers in your eyes
After all those oceans have washed through?
Little wash buckets,
Little white clothes, that just
Couldn't stay clean.
I see stress
Under your eyes
Like bruises,
Seeing the truth just hurts too much.
Little clothes lines in your smile.
I try not to notice you let the laundry sit through the storm
Shirts hang torn.
But you look at me, dry cleaned suits.