【Aqua】

Water fell from my knees, in its place a fellow moisture—body submerged with few exceptions, I found the time to relax, here at my fingertips. Cleanliness holds little to the sensation of being free from material impurities, being none but yourself in mind and body, encased in that with which your being is mostly composed of—no faux rain could replicate this feeling. Unfairly distributing my surface, the torso takes priority, sacrificing the legs in part of drowning at their will and comfort. Lanky in all senses, not even I can fit inside this dew without meeting Poseidon at the seas floor, prior to further descent.

Despite the joy of being lost, my skin becomes loose in its identity, coming undone below the water’s pressure. A hand removed to survey the damage, fingers more pruned than fruits of similar name—though my flesh errs in its lust for tranquility forevermore.

Limb after limb I step free, the air stickier than connections between foot and tile, begging no to slip. Each breath a drink a steam, the door to dry earth opens at last, striking me down with gusts of ice, and a desert’s kiss. The towel’s warmth deceptive, in its failure to pat dry—sopping hair maintaining his promise to water the toadstools springing from the climate of my back. Take him hostage until wrought with drought, given no choice but to comply with fate—it must be, despite its cruel nature. Shrouding each inch of my skin within woven clouds still absorbent, I kiss paradise goodbye, receding into the land where time still flows.