late morning (but it feels so early)
so hot, so humid, you can barely breathe
sitting in the soapy water mattress of my bathtub
holding the shower head at such an angle so that it
cascades down my back, over my head, cooling and
flowing away my worries and fears
I open my eyes and see
wet tanned legs, miles of them, filling the tub from end to end
a few coils of soaked black hair, dribbling water into my eyes
streams of crystal clear, sweet, lovely,
WET
pouring over my eyelashes
plastering them to my face
so that every time I open my eyes
it's like seeing for the 1st time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem