an old drop cloth
covered
in paint.
oils and acrylics.
drops of spackling,
caulk
drippings,
rips and tears, coffee
stains,
tobacco burns,
a little blood
from cuts along the way.
i've had this cloth
for so many years.
it's stiff,
but still works well,
i almost deem it holy
as i fold it neatly
at the end of each
work day,
my personal shroud
of Turin.
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