Jessica Umbenhauer
Futile Pursuit

My lint brush noisily
Picks hair and fuzz off my wool coat,
And bending, stretching
I sweep dirt off my carpet.
The moist towel glides across the grimy surfaces
Of my cabinets and dressers
Cleaning up dust and crumbs.

The mesh sponge smothered in soapy lather
I pass it along my arms
Legs, back
Go over them again, to make sure they are spotless
Happy to wash the dirt off my body, for you.
To be clean, pure, for you.

If I look just right
My floor is swept
My cabinets dusted
My hair combed
My teeth brushed
Maybe you will love me the way
I want you to.

You will fling your body onto mine
Taking advantage of me
With my full permission.
Maybe, just maybe your fingers will slide
Into me, through me, over me,
As I shower you with soft kisses,
Exploring the vast expanse of your naked body.
Maybe I will taste your mouth
Touch your stomach
And you will tell me you want me
And I will tell you the same
That I've wanted you ever since the first moment
I saw you, reclining on a bench,
Seven years ago.

We will enjoy our bodies uniting
And will hold each other indefinitely.
But then the dream ends and I wake up,
I look at my clean room
Sterile and sanitized
Glowing from top to bottom,
And I cry for you, spilling drops onto my clean sheets
Under which my clean body lies.
I am alone and I realize I will never
Be clean, spotless enough for you
I can't make it, will it, to happen
Can't make you want me.

So alone I sit
With my clean hands
Folded on my shaved legs
Without you.