A Hot Bath

When my tub finally dries after a long, hot bath,
There is always a dirty, filmy residue
Around the upper edges and where the dirty water
Accumulates as it scurries down the increasingly
Noisy drain.  Here in this once luxurious bath is
Where much of our lives takes place,
In these resolutely calm times
That neither cheerfully celebrate us,
Nor torment our souls, where we lounge
Purposefully and take time out for
A delicious, wet, and sudsy bath.
Love and hate, and the ruthless bitterness
Of lies and remorse, lay stone cold
On the smooth, curvy-shaped bathtub,
As the exceedingly hot, gushing water
Flows serenely into its coveted
And completely closed reservoir!
A momentous challenge,
To not feel fresh and enlivened
From this restorative, cleansing,
And personal experience,
Peacefully laying
In a bubbly, scorching, and healing tub
Of soapy bathwater.