Lemon Clorox by Emily Uduwana

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).

00100dPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20191221123147995_COVER

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.

Published by Serotonin

Keep pushing that boulder up the mountain.