Shampoo

It has taken me nearly
three years
to buy the same shampoo I
used
with you;
sea buckthorn
berries
hanging in clusters,
disasters,
anniversary balloons.
Sweet orange
shimmers
on the bathroom
floor and
I squeeze hard
like you squeezed me
and I wonder what I’m hoping for.
Soap in my eyes
thin hands on thighs
and kisses strangely
dry
under all this water
and
you ask me what the marks are
from my belly
to my heart
that you well and truly
yeah
you well and truly
went for
didn’t you
lathering my hair
with the creamy sea berry
bubbling to a foamy
crest
ready to break
on my chest, skin
softening in the spray
in the downpour
in the rain
and even now
still paper-thin.

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