Underbelly of Everyday

Dust dances thick in thin sunbeams,

a tangle of loose hairs, a single sock

threadbare and half swallowed by old receipts.

I crouch, breathing stale secrets

where shadows gather,

knowing this neglected dirt

holds the residue of forgotten nights.

Cobwebs, brittle and spun tight,

stick to skin like ancient promises.

Here, the floor disappears,

and the lost gathers

in silent, layered weight.