Public Soap

The public bathroom, stark and white,

a pale green soap dispenser.

I pressed the pump, a sudden, sharp light,

a memory's intenser

scent.

Chlorine, thin and cold, a shock,

took me back years and then.

The indoor pool, the ticking clock,

and the sting, again.

My eyes would burn, red and raw,

from jumping in too deep.

That artificial, sterile law,

a promise I couldn't keep

about my breath.

Now, on my hands, that chemical sheen,

that public, hollow smell.

Just a scent, but what it's been

to me, is hard to tell.