Hers And Mine Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Hers and mine

I peed
I washed my hand
Why?

Do I wash when I touch my eye?
Do I wash when I touch my ear or nose?
But I washed this time; as I always do.
Why?

Why didn't I wash the aunt's?
She used her pee on my head
She used it when I was in pain.
She used it against the wasps' sting.
She used her pee as medicine.
That reduced my pain.
I was a young boy; a daredevil.
I left no stone unturned; nothing virgin.
That burning I deserved.
But I shouted and cried.
There was nothing in Hana.
Except what my aunt brought.
Her pee
I was hurt; could complain.
And I was in pain...
Later; I was told; learned.
But I never washed hers by intention.
I always wash mine...
Why?

Aren't they the same?