To undress, and immediately getting goosebumps from the touch of the sharpen air on my skin. The first touch of my feet with the freezing water. To go from being uncomfortable to feel at ease in just an instant. To surrender all my body to the force of the water, pushing me up, holding me, surrounding me, embracing me. To never want to dry off my body again. To be a river with infinite waterfalls. To become one hundred percent water.

Suddenly, all the room is just mist. The mirror, the window and the glass are not transparent anymore. My fingers become brushes and I paint with water. The glass cries, ephemeral drawings and words impregnated in its skin will be gone forever soon.

Only the last drops of water remain of what once was a storm. Their slow song plays on the background while the towel soaks up the tears of my neck, shoulders, fingers, stomach and legs. Again, I’m dry. Cold. Undressed.