This rain soaks everything—

laundry day. 

Heavy cycle. Cold wash.

Climb into the brushed metal. Get bashed

around a bit. Come out with your soul

clean. Smell bleach in your nostrils

like pollen. Don’t worry

about the wrinkles or the edges

of your world coming apart

like wet paper. Remove skin

to wash inside out. There’s fabric

softener for your regrets.

Don’t hang dry—simply

lay your body flat in the black

dirt, beside the green plants, ready

for sun