Cold Bathwater

I closed the door
reached up to my head
and began removing the bobby pins
from my disheveled hair

I looked at my face in the mirror
seeing it from someone else's eyes
I look sickly
Turning away, I removed my cardigan
peeled off my tights
unzipped my dress

I looked in the mirror again
As I finished undressing
The bags under my eyes
told a story in themselves
I look tired

 I squatted in the cold porcelin of the bathtub
And turned on the water
It came out, running through my fingers
the warmth felt nice
my fingers too numb to fully feel

And then it stopped running hot
I shut off the water
in the shallow tub
disappointed

I laid down
my back against the cold porcelin
strangely not warmed by the water
I began to shiver
and looked up at the ceiling

The cold hurt
but in a bearable way
my flesh was dissatisfied
but my mind was numbed by it

As I closed my eyes
I tried to forget about the cold
and my mind raced
So I prayed - please stop

I got out of the tub
and padded around the house
in my faded pink towel
I turned the heat up from fifty-nine
seventy is reasonable

I returned to the bathroom
with an old quilt
and curled up against the wall
the vent against my back

The water from my hair dripped
down my back
and the hair on my skin
stood at attention

And the warmth came
from that sacred vent
And my mind began to race again
Funny how the cold was a blessing

His hands were warm
His blood ran warm
when he held me
when he touched my face
when he bruised my arms

The heat decided it was time to turn off
and the cold returned
and I welcomed it.