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.
