Clean

Today I am entirely me,
The sky is red and pink behind the trees.
The sky is slowly bleeding out
Its ability to think.

Today I like the way things feel on my open pores and wind-blown hair.

I was clean for a while,
But then I was dirty.
I dirtied sheets in many
Strange tower beds.

I pondered over all his gestures
Every minute of every day.
My love was like a red red rose
(Made of cheap metaphors, of course).

Now I am clean again.
The sky reminds me I am clean,
Delivers moobeams through a quickly fading cloud.

For years I remembered too strongly.
My mind was the vibrating echo
Of an original whispered word.

Today I am only clean,
Slowly bleeding out my ability to think.