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Date Written: September 16, 2017

Here I am echoed the imprint of lint embedded deep beneath the berber sheets.


The room hums with magnetic thrust the burst and booms sounds bouncing all around the acoustics in the hume.


Feel the tug as the ocean that is the rug  ripples and rips.


Vortex grabs the lint twisting and spinning it, like a bovine in a tornado lifted like a feather in a gentle breeze.


The vacuum grabs the lint bouncing off the walls of the tube, like a whitewater rafters skipping around a cascading rill.


The suction is so intense can not think of anything this emance.


Sudden stop the filter like  a rock, the visions of a semi careening into a solid wall can't compare to this at all.


Freefall to the abyss of nothingness, reminds me of oasis of loneliness.


Void of light the lint just sits in piles of endless emptiness, like being marooned on an isle with a live volcano read to spew its lava engulfing the ocean's hue.


Decay will end this day the lint dissolves into frayed shards of grey ghost lost in eternity, like the souls trapped in purgatory.

2 comments on “Dusty”

  1. comnpkpillai     September 17, 2017

    Oasis of loneliness
    Soul trapped in purgatory
    So called cleaning is never ending
    As long as one face the life.
    The purgatory is possibly earth itself
    Between paradise and inferno
    A lot of thrust and burst
    Very sad affair

  2. Joeys Wonder Girl     September 17, 2017

    Wow, the poem and especially that last line was awe-inspiring!

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