bubble religion

it's sunday, another day of ritual.
armed with soap i go to the laundromat.
multiplying bubbles for arsenal,
washing drama and issues that squat.

drowning regrets in the whirlpool of will,
breaking down the haunting sweat, tears and cum,
erasing traces of past that was ill,
draining negatives down to where they come.

although dirtier past tends to cling long,
there are ways to remove them forever.
so send them to a void where they belong,
diffuse in the air, free from the dryer.

at the end of day i wear myself clean
to start the week with positive scenes.