ShowerA Poem by Dana AlsamsamI think a lot in the shower, and this is what it feels like.
Wet hair pulls the secrets
Translucent, silver spider strings, Away from the nape of my neck Leaving the ideas nuzzled In the indents between The disks in my pale back Like the crevice of a peach, Spring blushing and bruised Just like me: pink cheeks. Purple, blue, yellow, brown marks Leaking poached ideas Into the recesses of my body Between my collarbone and neck, Hip bone and stomach. Scrubbed pink and exposed Like the tender skin of a scar Akin to the taste of your tongue, waiting To feel clean. Water droplets Wick away from my body Like a waxy candle, sticking, Burning and repelling. Naked Knees pull into my chest As my hair dries over the nape Of my neck. Secrets exit here, A flood away from my hair, But now they're just a trickle. Trickle. Trickle. Trickle.
© 2013 Dana AlsamsamReviews
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StatsAuthorDana AlsamsamChicago, ILAbout"my brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness." i dance, write and play violin. i'm studying english and training in dance in chicago. i like spooky things, red lipstick, caffeine, punk/indi.. more..Writing
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