Laundry

I inhale the carvery of

The ambitions and words of others

That starve most to death

I inhale and

go to dinner parties and drinks

Where people exhale deceit

And smile largely with tense shoulders

With a few lingering eyes on the few co-workers

I inhale and

go to research labs and canteens

Where people exhale aspirations

And smile tiredly with sagged shoulders

With a few lingering eyes on the few ticks of the clock-work

I inhale and

go to the masses and streets

Where people exhale worries and confusions

And frown as the bus doesn’t show up on time for their cloudy weekends

I inhale and go back to my room;

And scheme away to how to get away

And come back

Running and running

To my friends’ arms and giggles-

Like clothes from fresh laundry 

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[Feb 15, 2024]