Antibacterial

A poem

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

I long to be outside
these maps of meaning,
and start smoothly afresh.
But this itself
would be meaningless
if meaning could be bereft.

It’s the reflection that hurts —
two wrongs
sometimes do make a right.
No matter the effort or the effect,
a partial percent must always be left
after an antibacterial fight.

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