DAMP AND DARK PLACES

emscreams:

I wash my hands and turn to the door 
where 4 towels hang on 4 separate hooks
Halfway hidden behind a light blue towel 
is a forest green towel that I recognize 

as the one I borrowed when I visited 
this apartment one month ago
I stand with wet hands, shake them slowly 
and stare absentmindedly at the green towel 

while water drips onto my toes. I wonder 
what the average length of time is after a child dies 
before the parents walk into his room 
and sit on the bed, touch the pillow

lie supine and align their spines along the mattress 
where his will never be again
I wonder how long until they begin 
using the room for storage

I dry my hands and press the damp cotton 
into my face and breath in, now wondering 
what types of mold can grow in towels that don’t dry out 
properly after wiping down an entire human body

Nice job, Sarah Jean.