The sadness of being human

I watch you through
the keyhole of life,
my eye pressed,
strained against
the cool brass, you behind
the shower door, beyond
reach, beyond touch

where the water cascades
down the slope of your breasts,
across the roundness of a body
that belies it has known childbirth

as you stare into the mist
of the water that envelops
you and mingles with the stray
tears that tell the tale
of an aloneness that knows

all too well

the sadness of being human.