It used to be that my favorite part of baths were the whirlpool
That twisting tornado of water
Spiraling out of control as the dirt and soap disappeared
Into the darkness
But what if instead of water and dirt
It was our life?
What then, would be draining?
Emotions, and youth
Decisions and mistakes.
Memories all swirling away into nothing.
That must be what if feels like to get old.
As the last drops of warm water escape
Leaving only the cool air on our wet pruny skin.
Thank goodness for soft comfy towels.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
It used to be that my favorite part of baths were the whirlpool
That twisting tornado of water
Spiraling out of control as the dirt and soap disappeared
Into the darkness
But what if instead of water and dirt
It was our life?
What then, would be draining?
Emotions, and youth
Decisions and mistakes.
Memories all swirling away into nothing.
That must be what if feels like to get old.
As the last drops of warm water escape
Leaving only the cool air on our wet pruny skin.
Thank goodness for soft comfy towels.