I inhale bleach,
scrub the bathroom floor
–3am and breathless–
until each risen stain
presses air
into eager lungs.
I hate cleaning,
hate the stench
of chemicals,
the sweetened veil
of lemon-scented poison.
I hate the memories carried,
memories of hospitals,
of sanitized spaces,
of swollen eyes.
I let the dog out–
one of us should smell grass,
taste dew-covered leaves,
before the mania passes
or consumes the house
in a cloud of Clorox
and antiseptic wipes
and 2-ply towels
(if any are left behind).
Emily Uduwana is a poet and short fiction author based in Southern California, with recent publications in Miracle Monocle, Eclectica Magazine, and Rubbertop Review. She can be found on Twitter @em_udu.