I get clean I get clean for you
I don’t get clean for just anyone. I get clean for Christ. I get clean for people who make Christ a possibility. For people with glowing hearts and coronas. Earnest people who love really who are not afraid who crusade across the city in bright. Brass. Armor.
I get clean. I get clean for you.
I scrub I scrub my teeth my tongue. I brush I brush with plain baking soda. I gag I scrub my mouth so you don’t know I smoke. So you don’t think I sleep. So that you hear sparkles when we kiss. So your dick your tongue have a clean plate to touch.
I scrub my skin for you. I roll in astringent so your face can touch my face and we can stay unblemished. I let it burn. I layer and layer the smells that let you think I am so fresh.
So fresh and so
clean I get clean for you. I squat I squat in bleach to burn off history. I paint it over. I gloss it up. I take pictures of perfect pussies and paste them over mine. I scrub until it bleeds. I ask it what’s wrong with you. What kind of dirt did you get into. I force it on its chubby pink knees and I make it ask forgiveness.
I peel my nails off to keep the dirt from collecting and I think about the theatre and I get tired.