A46
Collective Memory
Excerpt from poetry collection:Call it Awash: Stories and aphorisms.

so hot that it hurts my scalp.

sometimes my showers start out hot
at first,
but then drop below the level
of what could comfortably be called
warm.
more than most points of my life
i feel the least autonomous when this happens —
when i am shivering with my hands held out
cupped, filling and overflowing with
colder than lukewarm,
like an offering of water to the water,
teeth clatteringly cartoon cold, thinking
“what could i have done or bought
that could have prevented this?”
but in that moment
the water warms up too quickly
and i jump in even though it’s so hot that i’m red,
so hot that i purse my eyebrows and suck air in between my teeth,
then i let my head fall back into the almost-pain
and let the drops bounce across my face
like a lily pad.

i think and forget my best thoughts in those moments.
more nourishing than any warm meal.

Ruth Crimson-Forde