There’s something eerie in the water…
and there’s something rusted on the bottom too.
Something shiny
with a plastic handle
and a tip carved to perfection.

She always cared about perfection.
She had some obsession with it all.
To the point where the curtains would blow north
and to the point where your frustration would shake you
like a hand grasping a maraca
or trillions of talons on your shoulders–

Grasping

and

shaking.

Shaking…

Calm yourself. Calm yourself. Calm yourself.

And remember,
if you can.