My mind feels dirty
and I can’t wait to clear the air
It may have been days since
I felt tears on my head
pleading to drizzle down
the rest of me like milk icing on a cake
My closed eyes help me feel
the thankfulness of every strand
My lips sputter
so as to not inhale the taste
of that is to come
And that scent behind my lids
sends me to shear ecstasy
Though the other parts of me lather
I have yet to be baptised
Pristinely pungent
I could air out the beads of final judgment
and be on my way
Still filled with filth
I can now let my mind take me
on it’s intended destination
Cleanliness begets sin
And I will do it all again
to feel those tears on me