You were my bath,
On the cold Winter's day in my childhood.

Now as the water drains away,
I don't bathe lest
I'm slid to the vortex.

But risen I return
To dabble my hand in you,
In the spinning waters.

I think you feel my love,
And I yours,
As I walk,
And you swirl,
A dangerous game.

And I know you forbid me,
To approach your drain.

So let me enjoy my hand
in your current.