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May 2014
my knees and ******* protrude
from the still water
like mountains in countries I've never seen
I have always hated
since the time I surpassed the length of the tub
that I could not stretch out
my body looks alien
I don't recognize
the bends and angles
I'm disconnected from my finger tips
as they make ripples
break the surface tension that
holds my brain
holds my soul
the blue ribbon holding me in this porcelain box
I am washed with all my thoughts
my plans I have not made
and when I stand
dripping and cold
I am *****

and as I towel myself
I drain and redraw the tub

again
and again

until I am clean.
Too many things to think.
Written by
T
681
   Aya Baker and APari
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