This grease won’t leave,
my hands, residue from yesterday’s
leftovers.
No matter how often, nor how
hard I scrub
palms and fingers are never freed
from particles’
greed:
I am disallowed to feel
clean;
time upon time
day after day, a spot-
stain, or two, does persist;
yet I must not dwell, on
crumbs from Yore’s table,
before I, too, am
left-over, the
grease on my guests’ hands.
my hands, residue from yesterday’s
leftovers.
No matter how often, nor how
hard I scrub
palms and fingers are never freed
from particles’
greed:
I am disallowed to feel
clean;
time upon time
day after day, a spot-
stain, or two, does persist;
yet I must not dwell, on
crumbs from Yore’s table,
before I, too, am
left-over, the
grease on my guests’ hands.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
BlueAstronaut
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