tools for cleaning

i grab the dog’s front paws, lift
him half off the kitchen tile.
we dance to chicken spitting on the burner
and norah jones curling from speakers
like mist. the song ends and the dog’s patience
along with it. he returns to vacuuming
the floor with his mouth. my mouth
has never worked well as a tool for cleaning.
i keep dancing in the silence
between tracks. the album toys with my body
like a wicked lover. the chicken burns.

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