showering while high

I can feel each drop,

Quenching the thirst of my skin

I can hear each drop,

Hitting the floor, like rain on pavement, or a roof, perhaps

I can smell each drop,

Similar to the dew on an early, autumn morning

I can taste each drop,

When I’m filling my mouth in a futile attempt to rinse the taste of shampoo from my tongue

But I can’t see each drop.

I wear glasses.

They don’t work in the shower.

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