Bathwater
Still and clouded
warm on my skin
I sink, my body sort of
slowly, indifferently
drifting downwards

but

not too far.

My dreams have always
in a way
spilled from me,
been left in traces
by my fingertips on
car doors and handrails
ticket stubs and skin.

I feel it
as it does
draining from my ears
falling from my lips
leaving me,
as they tend to do,
dissolving into the bath water
oil or salts or sugar cubes
shedding like skin
lost socks and misplaced
everythings.

Do you still want?
Do you sill dream
the same as the night
the stars fell into the sand around us?
To touch and taste or

slip away
into murky bathwater
sucked down the drain
and lost.

Comments:
 
Trenchtownrock   Trenchtownrock wrote
on 8/17/2009 7:52:57 AM
Awesome writing..i am so happy to have found your work..well done.

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 9/29/2008 12:05:24 AM
What images! You made it seem so real. Now that's talent!

BlueIris   BlueIris wrote
on 9/28/2008 1:22:42 PM
After reading it once, I wanted to read it again. I have to repeat what the others said--wonderful imagery!

Anyafay   Anyafay wrote
on 9/28/2008 12:03:20 PM
Great sense of of rhythm, your line and stanza breaks work well, and the imagery is very effective.

Moqui_Takoda   Moqui_Takoda wrote
on 9/28/2008 2:45:45 AM
this is fine poetry ... must agree with lindsay .... actually, this is one of the better poems I have red on this site ... you have finesse and skill ... this stays with the reader awhile, and I thought of my dreams and hopes winding up as a bathtub drain sculpt if I don't fling them into my life ... yes.

12
Scazrelet
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Scazrelet
Life is what you make of it.
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Rating: 10.0/10

Synopsis
My first submission here. It's actually a little personal.
A Word from the Writer
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