one of my first poems...

 The Bath

Submerged under the steam,
I steep until the water tastes of me
me tea
By my own hand,
using the stuff from ballerina tutus of long ago
and mountains of foamy bubbles
I slough off
that which has had most sensual contact
with the day
Why?
Like an oil slick
there I am
individual cells of me
floating on the very surface
trying to make contact
with me again
before they exit,
lifeless.....down to
mingle with cells of countless others
never ever to know one another
John Updike said it best,
"As in sleep we need to dream,
so while waking, we need to touch and talk to be touched and talked to.."
now I wait
the new me
all pink and soft and ready
just waiting for tomorrow
for you
to fill my senses
Touch me, talk to me
let me breathe you in...
I won't bathe until
you have sunk all the way
down deep
into my heart
where no water or cleanser or bubbles or scrub brush
will ever... ever... ever
wash you away.