That little piece of serenity you think you hide
from view in the privacy of your own brain,
that little kingdom over which you believe
only you hold everlasting dominion,
broadcasts through your eyes, its secret
spilling into the air, like milk from a
bottle overturned on the counter
floods the floor below, revealing the
mess behind those windows to your soul
as sure as the curds on the slippery tile
reveal the mayhem you’ve made in the kitchen.
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