bathe me

I saw something in the haze of your eyes

it was a clarity I had never washed myself in

dirty as a castaway on a deserted island

your eyes bathed me clean of the years of the forgotten

hidden under blanket or in cardboard moving box

I felt as a ghost floating room to room

in the house I built and branded mine with hot poker

yet unseen, unheard, unaware, unclean

but in your eyes I could see my whole self, in freshness

water spilling over me as if under a fountain of reveal

making me appear where once erased off the page

I was now a painting of pure color


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