Mundane

I had them all
Lined up here
In a crowded space
Of do’s and don’ts
Unspoken rules
Empty words
Guarded gates
And open doors

Bloodstains
from broken glass
Crumbs
Uneaten pies
Melted butter
Spoiled milk
A network of mess
And unsung lullabies

It turns around
It makes no sense
Pain on ankles
Stubbed toes
Reverse the flow
Always
The current wins
You’re still blown
Away by the wind

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


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