There's Something in My Eyes
Few places can I find peace of me
Spaces away from where the world outside spins,
Top speed topsy turvy, while I stand,
or sit, still and calm with dusty eyes
and sandy cheeks.
The static of streams, tiny drops dripping
down in systematic streaks, landing, circling
the drain, lost in a tube to tomorrow.
So I drizzle my loofa like a giant cinnamon roll,
toying with the taste of soapy sweets,
while the walls melt from steam, heat, from
standing still for minutes, hours. It all streams
together, and dusty eyes stay still despite
Engine rolling, radio on off, then on
with lyrics loud and reverberating, matching
heart beats and the steady sound of
breathing. Quietude, solitary, being alone
with the hum crossing rhymes with voices
streaming from speakers.
Peace of mind, peace of me. Even when
I sleep there is little time for thinking,
fears slopped onto subconscious walls.
Few places can I find peace of me, so
I stand, or sit, with dusty eyes and