Clean Slate

When I first cleaned my slate,

it was smooth and shiny

like a mirror.

Cleanliness

is close to godliness

and it is a god

who can remove one’s sins.

So purified,

I went into

the

.

desert.

My bit of shiny board

bounces light quite well

from the sun

and I think it is

well suited

to communication.

.

To be who

I want to be,

I must navigate

through these sands

myself into my own

personhood.

My mirror

will guide..

.

~

.

At each turn

my mirror

takes a hit,

a new dent

but I wash it

in the sands of time

and move on.

.

The mirror is smooth

but not clean,

and during those

in-between periods

separating hit

from recovery

I meditate

on the soloness

of literary heroes.

.

Those Odysseuses

who had to be

stripped or weaned

from their companions

before they entered

the boss battles

that made them

legends.

.

I cleaned myself up

to become my own

legend.

I wanted to become

my ideal man.

Was my scrubbing

an echo of that stripping

or was it something less?

Did each scrub reveal a weakness?

.

Where is my boss battle?

.

Among the dunes

there snakes and lizards

but they are not

worthy opponents.

Why must I find an opponent?

Before now and after

my mirror –my character- keeps

picking up dents

and undesired traits

larger than one fatal flaw

is this my hubris?

I can’t

keep it unsullied…

I can make sure

it doesn’t crack at least.

.

~

.

I have walked into

the desert

but I don’t think

I will make it out.

One can only leave

so many times

before one acclimates

and is trapped.

I have hit my rock

and restarting now

would be very hard.

.

Is this

The Boss Battle?

: to toil forward

without a restart,

to be unable to reset

and see an unfettered

reflection?

I am no legend,

but at this point,

I am

good enough.

This is

my new land.

 

One thought on “Clean Slate

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