I lifted all the weight from you I could
Like water buckets:
Breakfast, the early-morning doctor’s appointment.
We also lathered
& hung
our dreams held by wood white clothespins. Do neighbors read them?
But Chinese supper
Was late.
The wall we leaned upon
too buckled in like washboard.
What we imagined
Made of stone
Was fluid.
It turned to water
Which poured down
Our throats to quench a thirst one could die from.