A Dull Ache

A dull ache,
Like a film
That doesn’t rub away.

Old,
Like it’s grown tired
Of itself.

Whitish,
Like a blind eye
That still moves with its mate.

Metallic–
A sour rust
That slowly poisons.

Unsung,
Like its ancestors–
Why sing of them?

Wet–
Under so long,
Dryness is a dream.

Sighing
As it settles
Into its forever.