Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Husband as a Kitchen Sink, Full of Grease Overflowing

Because, Dear Reader, this is my metaphor where I can control the picture: Each inch of the kitchen committed to memory like him cheating. And he is filth nestled against other filth, against a mess of everything he desires and does not want. And all the while he becomes a pile stacked higher, a smell so foul I cannot even begin what needs to be started.

 

← Danielle Rose