Gritty I think,
sometimes a little oily.

The dust I am sure I cleared.

It’s an old thing.
Not so much of left behind,
but the parts that become
as useful as my bones,
my veins.

I wonder, is it really so useful
this polish?

Clarity, like a gazelle in the far distance
it runs at sight.

It’s too late.

Once you see clarity
nothing else
seems to work.