Staunched, I step to the sink to wash dishes-

the cups and bowls that had fueled my fire-
since a life of chores is one of riches
when not a slave to men or desire:
I took the yellow sponge in my brown hand,
added the soap and made a bubbly mess,
and then rinsed it away like oceans sand,
feeling every second to relieve stress:
I knew you were watching my every twitch
in that world of yours- so I made my own,
away from your Eyes, whose invasions itch
my sense of noble mien, under skull, bone:
A quiet mind is the quickest of hearts;
I'm confident, free from your humbling arts.
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