Ceramic Heaven

I love my new bathtub. It is a haven, a ceramic utopia, a bowl of rest, of steamy hot water rushing against my naked skin and stiffened muscles. I clean it often. I scour the yellow tile walls and the browned white of its bottom almost daily. In the morning, in the midst of my morning pee, I will dream of it, of the time, of when I am able to basque in its potential for glorious satisfaction.

In the warmth of a bubbly bath I am silent; I am aware; Iam naked, at rest, in the deep of thought and feeling; I am clean, whole, stark in the truth of the day.

Drama aside, I have a deep fondness for the bath, as I have lived for four years without one. I remember in the aftermath of birthing my daughter, I wanted nothing more than the relief of a hot bath or a massage. I had neither. I had a 4’x4’ shower, with minimal water pressure and no companion. I lived completely alone. My back burned from the heaviness of breasts like stone boulders, my legs ached, my arms numb from the minimal, but unusual weight of carrying about a small child; my vaginal area torn, cut and swollen. I craved a bath. I visited relatives with baths, and stayed the evenings, just for the exscuse.

I work in restaurants. I am always in bodily pain. I require consistant back rubs, and above all else, a tub. Recently, I moved into a larger apartment, with not one, but two baths. It was very important to me, that my new space, above all else, contain this entity.

Loves in my life, have in the past, found humor in my obsession with their tubs. In fact, I have often been wooed by use of the bathtub as a place of romantic inspiration with rose petals, lighted candles, sensual music and so forth. It works. It most likely, always will. I guess my fondness stems from my hours I spent as a child playing in the bath, sharking my way about the edges and fishing for naked barbies from the depths of the lego covered bottoms.

I will never take a bathtub for granted. It is a source of simplistic, but relative and required comfort and joy. And, I believe, that anyone who has one, should take the time and thought to enjoy theirs, because, perhaps, one day, you will no longer have one. Go forth, and bathe.