A Guide To Bathing

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Listen to the steam that floats from your body
in the hot bath, eavesdropping with crossed arms,
your fortress of skin protecting your breasts.
From what? Not who, but what; what are you scared of?
There’s nothing here but Dark.

Let your hands spill down your sides and
part in the water. Feel the hot wet between
your finger tips. Momentary weightlessness,
and then your arms begin to slide. A small fall from grace,
like the change from major to minor when your lover says goodbye.

Feel the skin soften, as your epidermis absorbs the blossom,
like old Alhambran Queens. Rose water cools your cheeks
and the cotton pads press at the beads, crushing them into
tributaries, to replace the old riverbed of tears.

Citrus oils coil on the surface while you close your binary pairs,
in here your mind’s the eye you need to wear.
Now lifted by your breath – mist hits like incense, like innocence.
Reviving the butterflies that live between your naval, and coat your
nerves with tingles, electric storms as you suspend in your lake-like cradle.

With your eyes closed, part your toes,
let the tepid water run where the rivers used to flow.
See that glow? Re-set your course,
free fall forwards through yourself, towards it.
Nothing was ever that long ago; everything is forever
a short walk down the ice roads of your soul.

Pull your curves and bones, submerge beneath the laminate,
holding your breath. Now stretch;
feel air bubbles blow kisses from your ear;
hear your heart beat fast, faster, now you need air –
but still you count to ten, what if you never breathed again?

Breath in.
Your levitations at an end, emerge from the surface
with golden skin. Molten droplets collect on hairs as the cool air
surprises every one of them. Count down, it’s almost time to get up;
time to part your watery gate, to flood it.
Time to feel the slippery rush. A breath.
Raise those high arches and lengthen the key-stone again,
in preparation of the weight of all the steps you still contain.


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