I was hesitant at first.
What if I missed his call?
But still I turned it on,
All the way,
Scalding.

I left that scarf
On the sink,
And stepped in,
And immediately,
It was a different dimension.

Enveloping me, it sang my praises:
“I’m going to wash that man
Right out of my hair!”
And so I did.

And how I wanted its softness,
Its continuity.
Droplets pouring
Into rivulets,
Into streams,
Into rushing tides.
I shaved it all clean:
Fuck evolution.

My tattoo shone bright,
Bold in black,
It spoke my mind.
L’elan vital,
Life goes on,
Forever connected.
It is what it is:
I scrubbed myself

Clean, no worry,
No doubt,
No self:
I accept every little thing:
The bruises, the blemishes,
The beauty marks,
The raven hair,
The raw pink skin,
Of my breasts and my lust,
And suddenly it turned brisk.
I was under water in My Lake,
No self, just Our Mountain
And the crisp Northwest air.

I stepped out,
And I was suddenly
Alone,
Independent,
Perfect,
Raw,
Red,

Clean.