Toothbrush

Days are long.

Nights are hasty.

Time is scarce. 

Joy must be sought where it can be found.

Tingly paste

Deft bristles

Gritty friction. 

Up and down.

Back and forth. 

I love to stroke back there

Removing all traces not gagging

I’m calm.

When that place out there twirls and spins on its tilted axis

I’m akimbo! 

I reach for my brush and paste.

I bask in this small task that isn’t a task at all. All I am and all I have to give is a good brushing. 

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