T-Zone vs Astringent

Determined to scrub the film
from my skin, remove the unclean
stick of it, I impose detergent and might
against this shield that in fact keeps me clean.
Its very nature, viscous and stubborn, presupposes
that I’ll attempt to undo it.
I inhabit a wise design
that in the end always outsmarts me.
Bare-skinned and squeaky clean for
mere moments before the film slides
back over, like a mother’s infinite reach,
though I continually refuse the anointing.

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