Cool cleansing water running over me,
Cleaning me up, getting rid of the villainy
and lack of chastity.
But who’s to say they should be washed away,
like the scruffiness of childhood innocence.
Who should judge these scents and tastes and sweats
of a life cleanly and clearly remembered.
What sins, what villainy?
I wished they could remain unwashed and pure
retaining their essence within my reach.
Hanging about me in my lived in face.
A testament to my life, an affirmation.
It didn’t take much water to remove them.
But I was already clean.
I can remember.
Published in Whipers In The Wind, December 2, 2016