Mr. Dishes-on-the-Counter — Sink Ten Inches Away

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
Alex, that blue plate from IKEA, the one we bought on March 12th, 2022, at the Brooklyn store, after arguing about curtains.
You set it down at 7:45 AM, Tuesday, October 3rd, with the remnants of scrambled eggs, a smear of ketchup from Heinz bottle number 57.
Ten inches from the stainless steel sink, Kohler model, installed June 2019.
The water still dripping from the faucet, one drop every four seconds.

[Chorus]
Oh, plate, you sit there, intentional, like a statement unspoken.
Jordan walks in at 8:03, coffee mug in hand, sees you, pauses.
The seething starts, quiet, building like steam from the kettle on the stove.
Ten inches, Alex, that's all it would take, but you chose the counter, laminate from Home Depot, scratched from last year's knife slip.

[Verse 2]
Remember the fork beside you, silverware from Aunt Rita's set, Christmas 2018.
Egg yolk drying, turning to crust by 9:17 AM.
Jordan stares, hands clenched around the mug, ceramic from Portland flea market, July 2021.
The sink waits, empty, soap dispenser full of Dawn, original scent.
You could have rinsed it, Alex, thirty seconds, but no.

[Bridge]
Plate, you're the line drawn in our kitchen, 10 inches of war.
Jordan's breath, in and out, counting to ten, but the anger pools like spilled water on the floor from last night's leak.
Alex, you walked out the door at 7:52, keys jingling from the hook by the fridge.
Left me here, witness to the quiet boil.

[Verse 3]
By evening, 6:42 PM, Jordan washes you finally, scrub brush from Target, bristles worn.
But the mark remains, invisible, on the counter's edge.
Alex returns at 7:15, doesn't notice, grabs a beer from the fridge, Budweiser, expires November 2023.
The cycle, plate, you know it well.

[Outro]
Ten inches, always ten inches away.