Saccharine Iron

When hot, the iron strikes a shirt
with itself after a few seconds.

Sweet impression, you're a shadow
whose imprint will be worn
as a tattoo to every trim.

Seek meaning and then look
upon these sickly creations
and consider that matter
is a form of god
that no soul could eat for lunch.

Cyclical distance outpaces cynicism
[so far]
as random walks
turn a runner
into the strolling street.

Sugar glum?
Truck up,
your candy was bartered
to a pin factory foreman
in exchange for an ounce
of ironic detachment.

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