An Ode to Peder B. Helland

In high vaulted walls,

the steam does curl 

and in another world,

I lie submerged

 

The delicate brush 

of velvet warmth

against my flesh

does soothe me. 

 

From the light of my music

the water is as glass,

but retains itself 

the softest touch. 

 

When I step

out of this new womb

I am thus twice born glossy.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741