Two water bottles, a reflection remains.

On a white wall, they overlap, but their contents don’t meet just yet.

My bath is drawn, my body meets liquid form. How can I feel warm and untouched at the same time?

There is a gap on the drain, now less water remains.

I can see my skin uncovered, but I know that it doesn’t matter,

A couple of minutes and it’s over, the bath won’t last much longer.

I leave the solid empty tub. On the wall, the bottles remain.

They sat under the light; they travelled and met. Who would dare to change that?

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