I'm soaked.
Drenched.
Water logged.
There's wrinkly fingers
and prunely toes-
from a wishing well's
water spilling in my head.
The waterway
pulls me down.
The drain - body blocked,
as a river
meets my ocean.
I'm water logged.
Drenched.
Soaked.
Nothing but water.
Bones of Voss bottles,
blood from Icelandic glaciers,
spring sourced
liquid death.
A shower can turn every piece of me to jello, but it'll never figure out how to live peacefully.