The two discordant
forms of poetry
meet, while I shower:
One flowing free and soft
onto my skin
from the shower's pen.
The other, dressed in red,
structured by the body,
metered by the heart
and rhymed by symmetry;
flowing with grace
beneath my skin.
Pradeep Dhavakumar
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/while-showering/
