[Tomorrow morning I will take a shower]

Homepage photograph via Flickr by flickr

Tomorrow morning I will take a shower,
nothing else is certain but this.
A future of water and of talc
in which nothing follows and no one
knocks at the door. The crooked
river will fall through the steam and I
like a hermit will stay
beneath the tepid rain,
but neither visions nor temptations
will cross the opaque mirror.
Unmoving and silent, coursed
by infinite streams,
I will stay in the current
like a trunk or a dead horse,
and I will conclude stranded in thought,
a long lonely delta of the spirit,
intricate like a woman’s sex.