lei fraser

water drops from my hair
head bent low, watching
silver orbs slip down long strands
to plummet below
each drop a thought
too deep even for tears
their rippled consequence
almost unperceived
in the mass of fragile white
light reflecting upon itself infinitely
stays my gaze
while jasmine hangs
as an aromatic veil
not to obscure
instead a warm, yielding embrace
to hold me still
in the absent cleansing trails my fingers draw
on the extremities and porcelain
the moment slowly drains away
and yet, i feel there is something
just arriving
~