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Shed your skin of cotton with dirt and grime complete. Feel the smooth brown marble floor that’s cold against your feet. Turn the metal handle, almost entirely to the left. Feel the frigid arctic water that takes away your breath.
You walk in, steaming water running down your sides,   Like a different world, you stand there just thinking,   It's been a rough day, one worth reflecting on,  
Leaking, flowing, splashing over my fingertips, spilling at my feet Spirit bleeding Joy fleeting   fleeing  
Dearest Ducha, How many times have I tried to stand in you? Yet, I crumbled to the floor The comfort of the warm water On my cracking and aching skin As I look up the water droplets constellate
How it runs down my back, Over the arch of my calves, To the base of my heels. Bubbles of lavender and coconut Absorbed in the steam, wafting Through the air, coating the mirrored
In the shower tears are allowed The fresh water covers the taste of the salty drops Blurry images, white clouds     The colorful curtains block the crowd
Somewhere between the changing color of porcelain white skin, to cherry red flesh My mind wanders I wonder if it’s that hotter water that hurts so good
As I touch your skin In the shower every hour I'm in love with you!
Strangled by the showerhead She answers but she doesn't speak She's too busy staring at the wall Making sure it doesn't leak.   She sways and sinks, continues to think
After my work day is done
Body, wet and free Water along my strech marks, down my back and feet.
She watched the shampoo run down the drain in rivulets of strawberry blood. She stood and thought and tried not to think of the things that are and the thing that was.
Drip Drip Drip Tears fall from my face
I turn on the shower head along with my thoughts Which are often not my thoughts at all My mind has been infiltrated by society's thoughts And everything it has taught Should I really be distraught about all this?
For about an hour or so I sat there in the shower With the water turned up to fire. I let the water douse me in its flames Until my skin burned red. I gave myself permission to cry, Yet no tears came.
Her dreams are coming true, So long she has waited, She never imagined the things she had so longed for would be given unto her, She has always been a dreamer, She thought these dreams were just like the others;
  I stand, my hands cup my face, lifted upwards to embrace the flood of water. Head tilted back, eyes closed: only the incessant drum of droplets, the clouds of steam that engulfs the soul,
Imagine this. You need to shower, but the water heater broke. You don't realize you can borrow your neighbors shower. And you're not entirely sure when the dang machine will be fixed.
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