white tiles

two kinds of showers.

there’s the one where you’re ready to cry, you wait until the water’s hot, and when you get in, your skin turns a pink that’s just too bright and ridiculous for you to handle. so you sit down and tilt your face up, feeling the water falling down on your closed eyes and your lips and your throat and your shoulders. so you sit down and tilt your face up, imagining rain. so you sit down and tilt your face up, and the world begins to blur, and you can’t really tell where your tears end and the rain begins. you stay this way until you think the tears are gone, until your body isn’t shaking anymore, and then you stand up, wipe away the mascara streaks from your cheeks, and turn off the water. and it’s true. you do feel better, but really, how long will this last? you can’t live in your bathroom, although god knows, if it had a window, if the bathtub were clawfoot, if the water coming from the faucet stayed warm forever, you might try. but no, you can’t live in your bathroom. so you towel off, and walk out into your room. you’re holding your breath and you’re not sure why.

there’s the one where you’ve just been feeling quiet, where the idea of a minute alone tastes like swiss choclate, like cherry pie, like green tea coating the roof of your mouth. you shut the bathroom door, and climb in as soon as you turn on the faucet. you can feel the water go from cool to warm on the surface of your skin. you stand still under the shower, looking down, watching water drip from your hair, run down your breasts and your stomach and your legs. when you wash your hair, your fingers trace patterns on your skull. you don’t know what this one part of your body is saying to another, but it feels good. when you place your soapy hands on your skin, their motions are automatic and comforting. you stay in the shower, examining your body, washing away the world, until the water begins to cool. when you get out, you’re breathing easier, and the rest of the day seems like something better than it was before.

lately, there have been more of the latter than the former, and i’m grateful for that.