The water won’t really
Wash him away, but you
Try and now dry between
Toes. Thoughts of him
And what he did and said

Pollute your body and inside
Your head. An hour in the bath
Has not erased him at all, not
Undone him, not unfelt his
Fingers from your flesh.

The flesh tingles where
The brush scrubbed,
The pores hold onto his
Feel and touch, too imbedded,
All too much. You want him

Gone, want all of him to be
Sluiced away down the sink,
The down the drain, away
From you, with all his
Hurtfulness and all that pain.