It Is What It Is...Not

I dream

and in my dream

things are cross-wise, wrong…

I scour the sink

with my toothbrush,

and tiny black bits of dirt

fall from the bristles.

Everything is off a bit,

like the reflection from the mirror

when the medicine cabinet door

is ajar, just a bit

Then I wake and find you gone.

This will be a poem one day.  For now though it's just 55 words for G-man and his FF55.  Click on the link and check it out!