Poem: Cleansing

Powerful cleansingInterminable showers, laced with lye

Astringents cascading down fair skin turned pink

By heat and scrubbing —

The forceful scouring that a wok gets after an overlong stir-fry.

No amount of water

Or soap

Or solvent

Can remove the stain

Left behind like a the penumbra of light produced by an explosion.

Choices were made (they said, most passively)

And the consequences remain,

Yawning holes where goodness once grew.

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