NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Three, Poem Twenty-Two

Friday Shift

One floor up

toxics don't

spill up.

Larvae won't

take flying leaps

into ears. 

Gossip will

slump before

it climbs. 

If they don't see,

it doesn't exist 

ever.

Go home,

shut out what 

they don't know,

pacify with

own tail 

for weekend.