A creature, unformed, a tadpole or fawn, stands in the shower spray.

Puts coconut on its amorphous body, coffee on its face.

Becomes a fabulous beast.  Scent of the body in the nostrils, scent of the face. 

Goes out into the world, into ancient Greece.  Is seen by the sibyls.  Becomes legendary, recorded later in bestiaries.

Is part of the collective unconscious, summoned every once in a long while by a painter or sculptor.  Appearing in a dream…

The tadpole or fawn turns up the force of the spray, washes clean. 

Now musk on its body, citrus on its face.  Both in the nostrils. Smooth on the body, gritty on the face.

Feels its own unlikely existence.  It works!  The transition rooted and flowing from the collarbones…

Goes forth naked onto the subway.  On four legs down the aisle, hooves clattering.  Finds a seat.   Shines.  Even in New York, people stare.  Smile, shiver.

In the shower, it continues to live, the lifespan goes on.  Studying the swirling steam, deflected spray…

Runs out onto the plains.  Unique, but not lonely.  The creature of coconut and coffee galloping alongside.