Midnight

Standard

clean dishesIt’s midnight on Saturday,
and I am washing dishes.

Warm suds caress my hands softly,
releasing the tension of a long day.

Silence tickles my ears,
as I Iet the memories of the crying, the whining, the protests,
melt into darkness.

I savor the delicious cool night air,
as it drifts in and out of my lungs.

Peace floats around me,
seeping into my soul.

Finally,
I am alone.

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