Mayyim Hayyim
In the shower we sometimes remember
the fantastic–
water coaxing shoulders
to rest; the steams of memory
fogging reflections
in the mirror; if we once shared
water with a lover or watched
the water pool in our palms; if we
saw all the troubles of our day sneak
out the window like a ghost; if we
closed our eyes and nearly
fell asleep in the downpour,
(as if to ask water to fund
our escape to dreams;)
if we wondered why hard water
is not as conducive for lather; if we
watched our blood swirl gorgeously down the drain,
a monthly reminder;
if we wondered where our lovers
are, what our childhood friends do
now, and if they still go to the beach,
what our mothers are
thinking about when we’re not home
Isabel Owen is a junior English (creative writing) and history double major with minors in Latin American studies and Black Studies at SUNY Geneseo. She only recently learned how to ride a bike, but now rides hers everywhere.