Spring Cleaning For Another Time - 3-13-18

If this were then I’d draw the line. I don’t say it, obviously, I mean it inside. If this were then I’d break the glass with my Burning & rage, Maybe. Glass underfoot I wonder if I’d feel it I wonder would it hurt The way you do If only for an instant. I guess not, I guess I don’t know Nothing What should I know I’ve got words and scars Paint and an old ache but Dusted with truth, Aged with honesty So what do I know Except that If this were then it’d be new And tender And oh-so fresh Open windows, 3 20 18 But Not this year, Not this clean. Years from now, Or minutes, really; Search your shelves, please I’ll be there Cobwebs and dust Will you do me a favor? Will you please Brush it off?