I rented my room away,
As someone needed to eat by day
Sleep by night and have no one say:
“Go home you bum, here’s not there!
You will give all of our tourists a scare,
Besides, it’s cold and you’re not a bear.”
I cleaned it, of course, the walls and the floor,
Fixed my DIY knob on the door.
(People get shocked handling a toy boar.)
Hid my poems for awkward’s sake,
Otherwise they’d sing and keep her awake,
The bad ones might make her laugh and break.
I thought I cleaned it till ready and done,
Nothing left over, zero, none.
I even exiled my sheltered fugitive nun.
Some days later, she moved in,
Was greeted by something that had been
Still left over, my abstract kin.
My personal scent gave her a shy smile
From everywhere at once and lingered a while.
I guess, no matter your cleaning style,
You leave your essence there as you live,
The time you spent is determinative.