woman IV

And all that time,
a brown settee in another life,
another room, all velour and
slatted blinds
till now in silence
and a greasy morning
grey and uniform
the same hand clenches
now as then
but those years rushed
by me at a pace
I can't measure, erased
all the lost minutes
like a tap dripping,
a sluice of water curled
and slid
down the drain
all that time
washed me clean again.
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