Classic Poem

I see a woman
I see my wife

I see tears welling up slowly
I see translucent milk being squeezed out

I see an expansive back
absorbent cotton being torn

A hard ripe fruit
and an infant sketch of the fruit

I see all of the things I have seen enough
I see myself who doesn't try to see them again

A polished, long corridor
runs away like a snake

Under a hot shower
I see lips suddenly coming close