knowing pours over me
an ice cold waterfall
that leaves me
stripped bare
pink
raw
pieces of the woman
I used to be
washed away
like chalk drawings
in the relentless flow
illusion of control
of mastery
over my life
my body
my mind
erodes
dissolves
streams over
a rocky cliff
to a deep well
I long to cup my hands
to drink
quench my unending thirst
but fatigue and tremors
make them sorry vessels
for these baptismal waters
© 2017 Revised 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved