The Shower

Your hum
Through the pulse of hissing water
Whistled like that of a boiling tea kettle.

Naked & pale,
You entered the shower
& slid closed the fog-roiled door behind you.

You cleansed the day's sins
& watched them slither down the molded drain
To mingle with those of strangers - a foul concoction.

With a turn of your wrist,
You dammed the waterfall
& emerged red & newborn.

A clean canvas,
ready to be freshly stained by tomorrow's griefs.