Authentic. In Place of Clean.

Smell humans in the air.
In your gut somewhere.
Tension.
Weighing their intentions.
And your own against them.

Do not know how places really smell.
Bleach is a loud and undynamic storyteller.
Besides, humans are safer not knowing
their smell
how the places they dwell smell
how water from a well smells
or the earth that once capped it
or the earth in general.

Imagine how the air would feel without humans in it.
All earnest and unrepresented and free.

Authentic.
In place of clean.

Which it will never really be.
Still won’t stop humans from covering the world with bleach.

Until there is not a story left.
And we forget stories have a smell.

Feel human in the air.
Real human.
It shouldn’t burn so bad to breathe.

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