Losing your mind feels like
Slipping your chaffed hands into a pair of rubber gloves
Plunging them into hot washing up water
Hearing the chink of porcelain, knocking against glass
Impossibly fragile.
Soon the water grows murky
You cannot see, nor reach the bottom
From the top of your head to the ache in your feet
Standing wooden, bones imploring, knitted sweater itching corner of your cheek
Passion in contrast, hot freedom, dusty legs slightly parted, cold between
An urge as you stand beside the sink
To dive in
Silent impulse on a cold day to keep your hands deep
As long as the water stays hot
That feeling when most of you is dry and clothed, but part
Is submerged in warmth, feeling like fingers working their way up
Stockings, underwear, the electric wire beneath wool
Into the mirage of your longing to let go, absolve yourself of .. it all
If you could release, lie back in kneeding waves
You might let your weary cracked elbows
Then shoulders, sopping, sink beneath
Climbing into the sink, patent shoes slipping
Brassiere faded by multiple wear, a grey strap, a bulge of apricot breast
Hair loose and dripping, reflecting against dull tin
A buttoned up woman trying to gain admittance
All thoughts stewing in your head like vegetables boiled in water lose
Their flavor …
As politely you wash and rinse, checking against light for water spots
No one shall ever know, the devouring urge beneath your coat