The bathroom is white And bright like heaven. I fill the tub with Epsom salts, bubbles, Some essential oils (emotional vaccination), And bless the water like a priest. Then I disrobe, Fold my arms and dip myself in, hair weighing me down. The water is womb-temperature. I float a little. I think about why I’m here. I ask God But the tiled walls And the shower curtain Don’t answer. Then I rise, put my robe back on, moisturize So that I’m like a baby again, And go about my night, Helpless, teary-eyed, Begging to be held.