The Preventing

The muse showed up in the shower today,
a place where the only tool for documentation available to me is detached hairs,
finished being mine,
collected and positioned on the steam-sweaty walls.
I know from a history of writing teenaged shower-wall apologies to my brother
that it takes too long to form letters that way,
so today I committed to the cessation of thought,
in hopes that the preventing
is more merciful
than the forgetting.