I Jump

I jump

to conclusions

when I see you

with the lipstick-stained handkerchief.

Or is it blood?

You stand

at the bathroom sink,

water on low,

scrubbing the stain

with a bar of soap.

I pick

up the soap

and wash my hands.

Blood on your hands.
Blood on my hands, too.


This was linked up for this weekend's Trifecta Writing Challenge.  A poem in 33 words, three lines, or three stanzas.