Washing My Hair At The Sink Poem by Larry Houston

I come home from the hospital, an aged old man
In soiled clothes
tubes hanging, like a fat leech,
from my right side
sucking, draining
she washes my hair at the sink, soapy water mixing with tears
that I cry
tears of fear, of sadness, of indescribable joy
warm water soothing
the days precious, bittersweet
knowledge
comes late
love is not sex
sweaty and straining,
or strong words
or the taste of her mouth
or the sound of her sleeping
but the touch of her hands
on my gray-haired broken-down body
giving comfort
care
washing my hair at the sink