A Poem, part 1 — Smudge; A soul be disturbed not stirred

Yea, the gradual sedentarization; The slow erasure of self, of mind… Have you ever looked, observed, The window pane, the detergent, The water soaking into… The wooden frame – capillarily, The second rinse-wipes happen The result? Still a smudgy, Lacklustre, slightly translucent, Unglamorous see through — Ugly, uninteresting, unnecessary, Unsummoned — like tiptoe diabetes. The… Continue reading A Poem, part 1 — Smudge; A soul be disturbed not stirred