Dust

Image
image courtesy: photography.tutsplus.com

 

The dust justifies living,

Or rather an absence

Of being.

This dust is a void of nonsense.

It paints pianos shut with fear

And makes the steps creak.

It is the lines on an old stuffed teddy bear.

It just makes your knees weak.

The dust takes over the house

And climbs along the walls. 

It drives out the mouse

And dust runs when someone calls.

Dust… is absence of love.

 

 

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