Ode to a Hot Bath by Seanna Pratt

Your water rushes
from the faucet, laps shallow
against the pale faced tub. Beckons
for the taste of wild bubbling soap.
You make me love the foam rising
like smoke from fireside chants. Steam
dancing drunk among humid shampoo
canopies. Candles encircle your balmy bath,
untamed flickering in séance. Invites
the evil to lick their flames. Worries flow
unfiltered through my limbs. Wedges slick,
silent through the gapped plug.
Trouble rinses
from strands of damp
hair at my neck. Your shallow
pool swallows my body
until you are chilled, seaweed black
with yesterday’s plague. I watch it circle
clockwise, clawing at the drain’s
mouth. I whisper
the candles asleep. Stand naked
in the damp,
vacant room. My body,
a weathered temple. You,
the healer. Together,


2016-12-18-2Seanna Pratt is the founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Drunken Violet Review. She enjoys Netflix binges, breakfast foods, and providing a place for artists of all sorts to come together and share their work. Visit the ‘Meet the Editor’ page to learn more.


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