In the shower
I watch the skin of shedding selves
Swirl down the drain…
I listen to water songs
As my skull sinks
Further into the abyss…
I close my eyes
(my body
without its skin
is just a skeleton of tomorrow.)
In the shower, I am immortal-
There is nothing
But the art of cleansing oneself…
There is nothing
But vapor and heat
To open the pores of past lifetimes:
And sweat out the poisons
Of modern living-
In the shower
I am alone
And exposed
To my cubbyhole
Smallness of existence.
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great write. This is diffrent but you are right cleansing the soul. Keep up the good work. I;m looking forward to reading some more of your works.
Toni Sweeney