it is a rare moment;
cold tiles warm water,
shampoo in my eyes, stinging
sometimes i put my
hand in the water;
burn left sing(e) right
follow the water down,
find yourself in a drain
in a song in a life
in love.
clocks are my best
friends i never really look,
i’m never chased
anymore. slow
breaths and i
guess promises
that are incoherent against
a
blood orange sun
tinkering about the skyline.
clocks are my best friends
i tick tick tick myself to
sleep
i barely look;
eye contact with a
minute hand
i barely ever look.
warm water
eyes flicked up to the
sky
round and
forgiving i am
a
body of water.
red-rimmed
stinging shampoo, wide
and forgiving - i am a
body of water.
a body of memories
a
body of different
hair colours
a
body under my
bedsheets; a body
of hope.
a body of greatness
within
a
body holding
every person i am
yet to become.
a body of water.
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