ive swiped the floors
and i see the traces of soapy water
almost glossy
being moved around my rooms
into every corner
as i washed myself
a tour
by my own home
or
the soapy water
becoming more and more dirt and less and less soap
i cant see that yet
until i pour it down the toilet
or sometimes
for the sake of the action
i throw it out the window at second floor when i have completed all the floors without stopping without changing water
and the patterns of cleanness on the floor will already have evaporated and what i have left
almost like some kind of reward
the ten liter red bucket filled with water
so dark it shapes a wave against the early evening sky
also red
the movement of diving into a sunset or something
the splash against the ground
leaving bubbles popping in the grass
or in my flowers, if it was a bad throw
im bad at throwing
but i can run long distances
and it satisfies me
long legs
at least ive always been told
i swim long distances
easy
my head leaning at one side
like a pillow of seas
i guess that is enough for me
i dont need to see the water sail
through the sky for more than a second
to be please
at least the smell of cleanness often lingers
so im walking around in my own house
as if i was a guest
a sudden eye for details i didnt know i was the mother of
not a mother of much
or maybe im just modest
i wash these floors living five or six days into the future
i dont know how long people have planned to stay
how much they will stay
if i ever will see
traces of muddy shoes
while waiting for them
to appear on my doorstep
