A cleaner sees her mouth break across chrome, wipes away the reflection and deliberately leaves a thumbprint after closing.
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At closing, the cleaner wipes the chrome face. The ceiling takes the place where an eye should be. She leans closer. Her own mouth breaks across the polished cheek. She wipes it away, then presses her thumb to the spot it occupied. One thumbprint remains after the lights go out.
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A laundrette, blue shirts and a blood orange open a conversation about a room that does not exist and the hands left in glass.
A first-morning Eden poem about embodied autonomy, privacy, reflection, naming and the first relation between two people who meet as unfinished equals.
A minor physical tilt alters every relation around it, exposing the hidden agreements that made the ordinary seem stable.
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