I turn on a hot bath, leave one of the drains open
the bath is large enough to roll around in
it’s made of concrete and bigger than my bed
water runs over me
I ask for support in being open
that the running water can bear some of my tension
and carry it to the ocean. The baths perch cliffside over the shore.
The ocean is feminine as is the earth
I look at the core of the earth
and close the drain to the hot bath.
I fill a second bath, cold water in a bright bathtub
the surface of the water is a source of light
bright gray to reflect the afternoon
my heartbeat slows
I slow my breath
the hot bath nearly runs over
water brims on the wide concrete lip.
Water moves easily
it’s the element of emotions
emotions are fluid and mine dissolve in the body of water.
The surface of the cold bath stills and I hold my breath
my heart beat pulses the whole body of water, an extension of my body:
I can see the shadows of my heartbeat rippling the water minutely
I draw in breath
as the hot water spills over
I step to the hot bath
prepare to lay back in the water like diving into a bigger body
I anticipate and desire the overflow of water onto the floor
I think to stay in the bath until I am too hot. I move the water with my arms
it crashes soft over the floor, goes to the ocean
standing
the head rush comes out of nowhere
the rate is undetectable
almost like dreaming
how I can almost tell it’s happening
like I can almost tell I’m dreaming when I’m sleeping
Yet I’m standing and awake when
the rush has run the course of my body, and
the room, perched cliffside, feels surprisingly
quiet despite the crash of waves below.