an unpleasant sensation has always been steam in my face and permanently wet hands say, from washing dishes and when your hair isn’t tied back the strands fall into your eyes, cheeks, and mouth your heart races because your brain can only focus on the next thing and pushing through the task. while others love their lives, or so they say and seem to. reminds me of when i would work the dish room at the pizza place. even hotter industrial steam, burning my hands on flat forks and spoons. but it was quiet. no customers. and i could keep a plastic cup of orange soda. hot steam bright citrus cold sugar
Sophia Leenay is a poet and public health professional. She holds a BA from the University of Minnesota in French Studies and a MPH from Columbia University. She is a pharmaceutical copywriter and she is currently working on a literary zine for poems about health insurance. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.