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Shower
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~B~
Shower
I took a shower this morning.
As the hot water flowed...
like a million fingers...
caresing my skin.
I thought of you.
Heat touching me everywhere
with a softness
or an intensity.
Wet soft kisses on my neck.
A watery massage down my back.
And as I think of you.
Beneath this liquid curtian.
I want to cry.
Mingling tears with these rain drops.
but they don't come.
The faucet groaned that 'plumbing' sound
as I turned the water off,
and watched
you swirl
down
the drain.
The shock of the room's cold air
returned me to the real world.
And the soft pink towel
dried the last drops
of you...
...away
Kat:
Applause! Applause! I believe you have submitted a real winner with "Shower".
Your use of water to describe both pleasurable feelings and the pain of lost love works really well! Water has power to be very sensual, as in the first half of your poem and cleansing at the same time, as you demonstrate in the last half. You also put into words very well the two poles we all often live in namely fantasy/reality. Sometimes reality is harder, but I commend you for doing so. It should be comforting and give you great strength to know that tears come harder. Love those last lines of your poem! Keep that soft pink towel handy to dry off any more drops that may linger. A Great Job-Well Written! YBF
HOLY MACK'RAL DERE, SAFFIRE!! What a great surprise! I love this piece. Good job!
Jessica