You know those
black
specks on
white tiles of
bathroom floors,
the ones
you
stare at
while you're
waiting
to go?
If you
stare at
'em long enough,
you'll start to
see
the
faces,
all made up of
frightening figures
and surging shapes.
I sit
here and
stare at
'em
now, making
faces in the specks
of our
shattered futures
and
scattered images.
But I can only
see
'em when
I
stare at
'em long
enough.
I see
faces in the specks
in the ashes of
you and
me.