First Edit: The Solvent Blues/Solvent

[billy]

late on the scene here richard.
the opening three lines work much better for me. it's something i'd connect to a non adult. the original first three felt a little too easy. for me the poem is a hard slog, could just be me. at first specially because of the title i saw solvent abuse. now i'm not sure. i wish i could be of more help with this one. while the writing seems okay i can't see the story clearly enough.

Solvent

Bought at the dollar store,
paid in coins that skipped
last Sunday's service.

Disappearing dirt just a side effect no need for just
of her light headedness.
Measured twice to safeguard
against the correct amount, feels a little tell and not show.
her eyes are finally allowed
to tear up. Water murky
from soap and bubbles.
The mop quiet as a nun
waiting for a priest;
soft prayers lost beneath
masculine voice-
amen not denied, but permitted.

Clean floors never noticed,
her husband eyes
seem to be always closed,
even in the dark,
where they talk about his job,
where they still sleep in the same bed,
as their pastor suggested.

The Solvent Blues

Bought at the dollar store,
but that clear golden liquid
cost more than a dollar.

Measured twice to safeguard
against the correct amount,
her eyes are finally allowed
to tear up. Water turns murky
from soap and bubble-
the mop quiet as a nun
waiting for a priest.
Fake pine smell sweeter
than a Christmas tree;
disappearing dirt a side effect
of her light headedness.

Each thrust a push further
from their bedroom, where
he closes his eyes, even in the dark,
where she still exclaims, “Oh God!”
at the proper moment.

Her prayers are always denied an amen.

Yet they still practice weekly,
as their therapist suggested,
but she'll never tell him
how free she feels
cleaning
behind locked windows.