getting the blood out

i saw her

at the sink, scrubbing

madly at

her blouse.

murmuring

to herself as she

pushed a bar

of soap

into the stain.

what are you doing?

i asked her.

i'm trying

to get the blood out

she said,

tearfully,

it's too late though.

with blood, it's always

difficult to get it out.

things are

never quite the same.