drip drip
This morning while standing in the shower, I observed a stream of water running down my forehead, dripping beads from my eyelashes. I felt each drop ramp off my lash and fall in front of my eye, bounce against my chest and find its way to the drain. The flow formed drops with a regular frequency; I tilted my head to quicken the drips, turning it into a tributary before me. I focused on the sound of running water while staring at the shower head.
It must have been fifteen minutes.