My Bathroom on Juniper Street

I crave an embrace
But I’ll settle for warm jets
From a zinc-encrusted shower head.
My faucet spout weeps
Like tears from closed eyes,
The little drops sliding slowly from curve to base
Before falling gently,
A soft plop in a puddle before my feet. 

This is the safest spot on earth.
The shower purveys no judgement,
It only embraces and cries with you,
My tears sliding from closed eyes,
Blending in with the warm jets
So I have no fear of being seen;
I just came from the shower.

The mirror’s fogged up.
I take my finger and swipe left. 
“These are opened eyes.”
I take my finger and swipe right.
“This is everything I ever needed.”
I take my hand to see the rest
And don’t say anything else,

I just grab my towel and dry myself. 

-k.r.r.