CLEANER

You fall asleep in a corner of the boardroom,
hiding from
the supervisor. The palm of your hand rests
on a broomstick
as on a spindle,
the edges of the mop at your feet
fan out like a prom dress.
In the dark, you’re invisible once more,
and you do not wait
for a kiss.       

מְנַקָּה

מְנַקָּה