by BJ Park

I remember how when I was younger,
I would come out of the shower,
Dropping water everywhere.

With my towel,
I would try to wash off with frenzy
Those stinging droplets that wielded
The wind like a multitude of frozen pins,
Without logic or method,
As one would if he were to clean
Himself of self-incriminating blood,
But simply, with all the instincts
Of a mammal born without fur.

To this day, I recreate this exact moment,
And every time, I live it again.
Thus, you can believe me when I impart
To you this fundamental truth:
That moment when you first come out
Of the door in all your wet nakedness
And the fear you feel having known
That moment before;
There is nothing in this world
Colder than that.

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