| Written by Diana, on 10-12-2001 03:21 |
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clearing our shared sink one more time
shaking my head when i see how messy it is
i pick up the cleaner and spray like mad
acting like there's a disease in there and it's contagious
i sit impatiently, waiting for it to do it's magic
two minutes are up and i'm scrubbing away
thinking, why am i doing this? i don't even use this sink
it'll just be dirty tomorrow, i should wait until it's truly mine
when my sister moves out in a month
then i think this is the last time i'll clean up after her
partially happy and secretly sad
that we'll never argue over bathroom rights
never more will we race for the door, clicking the lock behind us
but then i see how fast the soap is working and I slow down
trying to let this last effort linger
trying to remember our petty arguments over who got spots on the mirror
who let tooth paste drip in the sink
I'm almost done, the soap works too fast
trying to think about what else i could do
maybe i'll clean her room for her??
wait, i'm not THAT sad.
(college poetry assignment)
Last update: 10-12-2001 03:21
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