Overlap

He settles into the rhythm of her washing dishes
Silence blooms
He holds her overused hands
running fingers across his palm
Soft as butter
Empty as the refrigerator
An overlap of ghosts
Routine of the day
The cat stretches further
Than we can
Rubberband snaps
His habit of remembering
She’s sitting next
Standing next
Moving through him
A river who has found the sea

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