dissolving

When I'm invited out,
no doubt, to that place
we each must go,
I'll step blithe not grim, trimmed in
pretty-
patterned suits.

Plaid-scented tears atop
herringbone-stretched smiles,
layered over
paisley-flavored sighs, I'll spin
pinwheel-
peopled years

to gargle my garb fresh
in bathing. And bathe
I will, striding
toward the bric-a-brac bridge
that spans
forgetting.

I may waver before
my wavelengths dive,
but then I'll jump
to swirl in the bobbing chill
and feel
a measured

dissolving.