Warm greasy water runs
through my fingertips.
She stands, belly swollen
from recent delivery, supported
by the refrigerator seeping blood
and water. I watch the man
kneel in its brown sludge
as her shoulders sag
and black circles coagulate beneath her eyes.
His fingers work the torn fabric,
stretching the soaked cloth
in a futile effort to contain the mess.
Before me the sink
is a junkyard of dirty dishes.
I wipe the trickle of water
on the window curtain where
a glimmer of light chokes through.