the hot water from the shower
trickles down my back
I wince in pain
but bathe in the difference
I look back, I recall
as your cold hands held me
this was much better
I watch as my skin turns red
I lay in this tub
silence engulfs me
the mere sound of water
suddenly feels deafening
soaked in unfriendly wetness
but I’m not complaining
to perish until bereft of breath
within these steamy waters
is the lesser pain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem