Water cascades from his skin in soothing waves.
The mist wafts through the open window making beautiful portraits of places and people.
Can’t find the soap but never mind, nevermind; everything is fine.
Happiness is a warm towel, savoring the moment is so delicious.
But I’ve got places to go and people to meet.
This is not my home.
That is not my blood.
I must go.
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