I can I will

I have bathed in you long.
I have doused your crystals
on the strands of my hair.
I have welcomed you,
splashing your waves
against my thighs.
I have lived through you.

But now I let the arid sun
burn me dry.
Your sweet cool
bubbles do not belong on my skin
anymore.

Find another home
pain,
I can, I will,
cut you free.
A bastard father,
I need no bastard son.

1980s

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