Beads
In the shower this morning
water sprayed like most days
warm, soothing to wake
a sleepless night.
Head still fuzzy, I
see glass walls,
beads of water and I
sink down to the floor to watch
one drop, drift to touch
another and roll across
to touch another and roll
down, grabbing more
on their way through
the drain in the floor –
bars any escape
as I place my leg
over this hole, to keep them
here with me, unable
to join their journey.
Coupled with saline
down the length of my throat
to the tips of my breasts, we
drip down
into this pool, swirling I
move to the corner of
this moment as
glass walls cry
for another drop
to find its way.
Copyright 2019 Sandra Morgan all rights reserved
Founder/CEO/Editor in Chief Kalön Women Magazine
