I’ve been doing a creative writing course and thinking about senses. I remember when I convinced the doctors to remove the breast implant (mastectomy) that was killing me softly -that day, I washed my hair. I normally bath, but on days when I shower I always remember, 14 years ago now!
She stands in the shower,
Remembers, skin tingling,
A post operative hour,
Through the stitched scars
still lingering.
The implant removed,
from the one it abused.
Now perfumed and bare,
With soap in her hair,
She is singing her heart out,
And dousing the scared.
