Be careful; wring it tightly in the tub
and lather. Face the back, those ribs and spine,
like beams that fail to taut a flaccid hide.
And hold the hand when senile tears combine

with ancient folds I crimped in stormy youth
as gurgling creeks impressed upon that veil.
But now, I care for you. If you recall
lost love, some broken vow, the parted trail,

then think of me. In time, you will forget.
         They babble. See a face you’ve never met.