"There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." - Sylvia Plath

I was fully dressed and ready for the day earlier, but something knocked me into undoing it all and slinking into a puddle of water:

Warm. the icy cold tub shakes my skin into thousands of tiny bumps while the shrill contrast of steaming water hits like lightning. for a small time my body is very tense and alive. then it sweeps into a deep calm. toes swishing water everywhere. examining the visual distortion as it moves. making my belly sink and emerge like a whale’s back.

My fingers turn into little prunes and the water loses its heat. the bathroom seems even emptier than before. with a lonely shiver I am leaving deep blue, soggy footprints in the rug as the drain gurgles down gulps of cold water. I put back on the clothes that might not end up seeing the real light of today.