I returned from the woods of fire
Entered my house of broken shields
The roof is torn, it cannot compress the clouds
The floor is broken, it makes us squeal
The heat does not get compressed
My body melting had begun to reek
People start mentioning disintegration
I decided it was time to leave
I woke up and pushed my bones to take a shower
I decided to be clean
I walked all grey in the forest that was green
It had lusciously brown leaves
With insects and midges that eat your decay empty
I knew I had to wash my soul neat
I drank and I drank
Took steps, walked in circles
But I did not run like he ran
I tried to fly,
Thinning from inside I thought I flew
The shower did not stop
The bees kept getting reborned
But I never began to feel clean
My soap ran out and it started growing big
Droplets of red dropped like water
It was the blossoming gloom of maroon
I started and finished then I started again
Days only turned into night
The sun did not shine again
My midges grew sore eating what was left of me after your burial
I played the same recordings
I said the same words
The same steps to the same chore
My task of bathing never left me feeling clean
My long shower did not run short
It merged into a loop from my hairs that got burned
Soap kept lathering I kept burying the foam in the sink
I tried to step out
The shower did not let me leave
In any alternate reality
I guess I never came clean
Do you still see me reaping desolate?


I love the images of landscape intertwined with physical elements of house and shower. It’s like a slow death. It’s lovely Athena.