fresh and clean

to smell and feel

my favourite jeans

like second skin




but as i zip

i feel a lump

a *** of fluff

a foreign feel




i pulled and fished

but there remained

fibres and particles

in the pocket deep




i pinch the deep end

and pull it inside

'til it's fully out

a white-washed tongue




letting the wind

take up in its wings

the remaining fluff

of what once was




my marks and grades

of a school year done

obliterated, disintegrated

into lumps of pocket fluff