Another Wednesday
I’ll make you clean, sloughing dead skin and fluffing your wispy hair away from your scalp in the fifteen seconds it takes to dry.
And bring you flowers.
Somehow in all of this is a tenderness I never remember between us, and a hope that a bit of it, a hint, a glimmer – filters through to you.
Somehow in the foggy abyss that you have wandered into, does a bit of love get through?
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