Code switching. Experimental. Examining the life of a paint stain.

I stain.

Warm backs push me back into stone.

A glistening eye darts around the room and it stops,

(On me).

On a hot summer day

I snail my way to the top,

I melt my way to the floor,

I meet all kinds of debris;

A hair shed, a flake of skin,

A leg of a bug-

All loosely attached, much better traveled.

​

I longed for another dimension once.

Today a fingernail came forth,

Strait across,

Пылинка (1) dislodged,

And landed in a glass of Морс(2).

---

(1)Пылинка- [ pilinka], a dust particle

(2) Морс- [mors], a type of berry juice