Walking around,
feeling the soles of your feet gathering the dust.
You feel the remnants of oil, sweat,
residue of soap, anything....
Things like that that give your steps a sticky, icky feeling.
Time to mop the floors again.
In a trance, you get the broom - that old fashioned type,
fashioned from dried husks and you move around the house,
like a whimsical shadow, focused on the task.
Sweep, sweep, sweep.
It's got to end some day, sometime.
Then you fill up the buckets,
shusssshhhh, the water gushes into the navy blue bucket,
half a capful of static-free, insect repelling liquid,
to 8 litres of clean water
You don't really measure to perfection,
and then slusssh, the mop goes in…
you gave up on the plastic mop catcher a while back -
it doesn't give you properly squeezed out equipment, a
nd then you're off.
Room to room, back and forth, sliding across the place
The job is done,
It's about 3:20 pm now.
Time to get off.
Trancelike - that's how sometimes my life feels like.
Cleaning up.
Room, after room, after room.
Corner, after corner, after corner.
Rooms and corners of my heart.
There are so many things to be swept.
To be mopped.
Bitterness, disappointments, hurts, regrets, angers.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Months to years.
You know.
You can feel all the residues in your feet.
You know you have to clean that up.
You know that there is no other way.
You have to clean up.
You simply have to.
Thank you.
For the reminder.
feeling the soles of your feet gathering the dust.
You feel the remnants of oil, sweat,
residue of soap, anything....
Things like that that give your steps a sticky, icky feeling.
Time to mop the floors again.
In a trance, you get the broom - that old fashioned type,
fashioned from dried husks and you move around the house,
like a whimsical shadow, focused on the task.
Sweep, sweep, sweep.
It's got to end some day, sometime.
Then you fill up the buckets,
shusssshhhh, the water gushes into the navy blue bucket,
half a capful of static-free, insect repelling liquid,
to 8 litres of clean water
You don't really measure to perfection,
and then slusssh, the mop goes in…
you gave up on the plastic mop catcher a while back -
it doesn't give you properly squeezed out equipment, a
nd then you're off.
Room to room, back and forth, sliding across the place
The job is done,
It's about 3:20 pm now.
Time to get off.
Trancelike - that's how sometimes my life feels like.
Cleaning up.
Room, after room, after room.
Corner, after corner, after corner.
Rooms and corners of my heart.
There are so many things to be swept.
To be mopped.
Bitterness, disappointments, hurts, regrets, angers.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Months to years.
You know.
You can feel all the residues in your feet.
You know you have to clean that up.
You know that there is no other way.
You have to clean up.
You simply have to.
Thank you.
For the reminder.
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