His love/hate shower dance
is a complex sacrament,
intended to invoke
the most deeply buried feelings
from the nooks and crannies
of his soul.
Starting close to the floor,
rocking and weaving,
he calls forth the
cringing core degradation
of longstanding shame;
tensing his torso
and curling his limbs,
before handing off
to unbridled elation,
adrenaline rushing and
fuelling his leaps,
embracing the high,
fists raised and clenched;
then gripped tighter still,
nails digging skin
as the caustic horror
of all past rejection
floods into fullness.
His body convulses
with each perceived
kick in the guts;
head bashing tiles,
spine scraping grout,
he welcomes the torment
before turning and spinning
into one final movement:
arms waving wildly with
jubilant energy,
hips swaying rhythmically,
feet skidding perilously,
as he seizes the wholeness:
complete self-acceptance.
The ritual is over;
his heartbeat decelerates,
his inner man cleansed.
Shower Dance
Where Were We? 
I love this under-the-radar-of-logic style of expression. It enables the raw emotion to come across all the more powerfully. Some concerns about the health and safety aspects of this way of taking a shower. Was a risk assessment completed?
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