(The window was the only light at night)

And that morning she cried into her cerealUntil there wasn’t milk

But dripping tendrils of cloudy water

Drop by dropping over the edges of the bowl

And pooling at her feet
Leaving the kitchen flooded,

raising a tiny arc of 

Barely used utensils

To row through the crack

In the window above the sink.
Late at night the pots and pans were lit enough to know eachother by the moon

And from the Outside,

neighbors saw a 

Woman 

Lit by lonely light bulbs 

Scrubbing dishes,
Lighting up a frenzy,

Sending shots of fire to the sky,
Setting the tone

For daybreak

So her daughter 

Could cry.