I miss baths like you would not believe. Hell, I miss warm showers like you wouldn’t believe. This is from the fall of 2005.
this bathtub has been too shallow
for almost a decade now
but i languish, steaming
(reminder of blue baboon butts and bamboo)
knees, breasts, alabaster archipelagos
volcanic nipples in passionflower pink.
i pretend to be a fountain
practice misting water
to someday be set aflame
i am first mermaid, siren
then a fish—my mouth filled warm sweet
i wonder if sea turtles breathe?
(and then i practice my stroke.)
the light bends my fingers
longer, more elegant
than when inhibited by lack of buoyancy
i wish to hear the music
of each droplet leaving my fingers
of the clinks in the pipes
and the sounds of my mother doing dishes
and i still miss my rubber ducky.