The Bath

by Ava Darling

One must wait for the bath water
to warm and then to cool, first
a finger, finally a toe.

Now I stand, my feet quite
wet, lower myself. O
most gentle caress. How
complex the sensation as I sit,
lay back, slide into
the bath.

              Warm, the water
touches as silk. One feels
and rests within the touch.
Almost a state of sleep.

Then as the water begins to cool,
one notes a restlessness.
One knows only that there is
some unknown, something
amiss.

          One’s mind begins
to wander. One wonders what
to wear.

             Have you ever noticed,
once you’ve gotten out of the tub
and you’re dressed, in front of the mirror,
lipstick in hand, how cold
and gray the water looks?

One finds it hard to believe
it could have ever been different.