The Massage

Drunk with tiredness
I slouched into the bathtub,
Submerged beneath its currents;
The banks overflow, engulfing me
To ease my thoughts and with it
My stressed body’s tenseness;
Laidback, I lay my back in calm
On its bottom, my bottom rested
As though embalmed by the elements;
Bathed beneath the bath,
I’m cleansed As a lamb prepped for slaughter;
Massaged in this temporary spa
My legs emerged from its depth
And the white towel throws its arms
Around my watery body to caress.
I feel refreshed. I’m fresh, in a breath.
I sow a smile, singing a song
Waiting…

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “The Massage

  1. Beautiful and vivid, refreshingly so. Ahhhhh. “And the white towel throws its arms/Around my watery body….”. I will recall that lovely line especially. Thank you.

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