Wash it all away
The sins and unpleasantries that have soiled my otherwise pristine existence.
Rid them. Scour and scald if you must. Scrub.
Make magnificently clean the miasma of my missteps.
But mostly clean.
Water from a dirty distant place, now a drink suitable for your refined palate.
Purify with light and air. Let the freshness flow like tears
No longer dammed.
The ask is the task we have now unmasked.
Caskets and coffins and cantilevered cornucopias conspire to conceal,
But better billows of spirit steam, soapy and serene
Vindicate vivacity lurking in vitrines
And antler horns and manors born and all the Andean
Quinoa in China.
And now we wait. Refreshed