I washed the sheets.
Again and again.
I washed the sheets until
I didn't think I could smell you in them.
The people at the laundry mat
thought I was crazy, no doubt.
But I soaped and rinsed and scrubbed you out.
Couldn't wash the night from my clothes though.
Tried Tide and Gain and pure baking soda.
I had to toss them so
I bought new ones.
If you're wondering, the burning grows.
Like fire. Like ice.
Winter snow.
Or a night when the world is sliced
in half.
And I'm still breathing after that.