So What If I Live Unskillfully

Drawing oneself is the easiest!
En route, definitely en route,
as a dot a condensed circle.
Neither rain, nor sun, or air,
all that is full is empty here.
The reflection
of houses upon one’s back.
But you won’t calm down souls with a word
nor with a bang upon the door,
everyone darts out of the house at once.
Only the eye remains, round, petrified,
illuminated.
That’s the easiest thing to draw,
the smile we need
a blazing wheel, a prayer’r mill
to grind and grind down what’s already been ground
until it turns red hot white.
It’s clear then,
tomorrow I will be available for love
but not today.