The Drop

The drop, it drips from the tap on the bath,

The steam, condensing, runs, frolics down the wall,

The heater, sits blasting out the music of its craft,

The towels, fluffy and warm, spread waiting on the floor,

The water, steaming, caresses your limbs,

The bubbles, pop and are reborn, with each splash as they play,

A blade, it slips in, a shallow slice in skin,

A drop, the blood pulses out, slips away.

The End

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