#1794 This is Not a Poem about the Frig

Something in the corner
has begun to speak.
It isn’t dramatic.
It just… smells.

Boundaries can smell, too —
a reminder in the air
that noticing does not mean
answering.

Must the one who notices
become judge, jury,
and janitor —
every time?

The covenant waits
because rewriting laws
is a landmine
even on a day off.

A small mental note —
unwritten —
held in place
by a single magnet.


*****
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