His mind is as dirty as mine is
What he does is not my business
I just know that when I lay down in his bed
Cleanliness is next to godliness
His sheets, his towels
He works with flesh I work with vowels
His focus is something I can’t reach
He’s meticulous about how he does everything
He smells like new beginnings and bleach
I can’t wash this dirt offa me
Why am I this way? Why can’t I let me be?
He’s like a rock, a fortress, a fort, a refuge
Means a lot when you’re storm like me
In so many ways I want to be like him
But he looks at me so purely and then
I feel cleaner and better than ever
With a bright future and little bit of zen
He says I’m the one who’s shown him how to be kind
But he was the inn when I was out of my mind
He calls me sensei but he’s the one to teach
Me how to love myself, think myself unsullied
Daily he washes me with promise and bleach
He brings the good in me to light
Takes the bad
Puts it out of reach
