face in the water stream
niagara of golden light
distraction from cells
draining away
refuge from
this infinitesimal
falling to pieces
I recall your
hand on my hip
the way you lift
my cheek a little and
hold it there
meanwhile pieces of me
alarmingly wash away
my fingers slide on wet tiles
trying to catch this moment
and the sense of you
and golden light
and life itself
Love it, Taryn!
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