I walked into the laundromat today.
I wore nothing but myself.
My clothes spun with soap bubbles in the periphery.
The dirt falling to drown into the water.
Cloth to dry upon a heated pool.
This futile attempt at renewal.
Folded and neatly tucked into a plastic bag.
My time has come.
I clamber unto the washing machine.
Pour the powder to cleanse me.
Roll me to scrape my filth away.
Shake my sins into the water.
Heat me to breathe anew.
Fold me to fit the mould of perfect youth.
I am renewed.
Only for one use.
Not truly new.
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