Low Complexity
Her face,
Lipstick smudged on one side,
Lopsided blush,
Loose earring.
Humming a song as she goes,
Slower than it was written,
Squished into one octave,
Simple song, simple minded.
Folding laundry on a Saturday morning,
Watching the other machines and counting down the minutes,
Staring at the rotation of reds and blues.
Returning to an empty home,
Picking up the phone,
Calling her mom in the complex,
Singing the song she’d rehearsed,
Warm giggles,
Heart to heart.
Copyright © Erin Hancock | Year Posted 2014
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