the door was pried
open,
she was lying there, next
to the ironing
board.
she was
backwards on the unmade
bed.
a dress was
there,
the iron on.
the wrinkles not out
quite yet.
she was pale, a blue
note
of color on her skin,
her glasses
on her nose.
the radio was still on.
a cold cup
of coffee was on the dresser,
the phone
was ringing.
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