In the Bath

By Sara Letourneau

Here,

in the hotel bathtub,

I am resting

in water scented with

coconut shampoo

and arctic thyme bath salts,

rinsing myself

in solitude,

a river of reveling.

My boyfriend has already

washed my hair

and my body,

but that is not

why I feel

cleaner

and newborn.

Here,

in this bathtub,

I marvel at myself

for the first time as an adult.

Smooth, uncalloused feet

with toenails painted

the purple of orchids.

The thighs I’ve called

thick and flabby,

now weightless.

My stomach,

softly sloping,

a meadow of skin

inclining toward

the hills of my breasts.

Slender arms,

with hands that hold love

and fingers that give back.

Now they wave

from side to side

so that gentle tides

are slapping against porcelain,

splashing my face,

rippling, whispering.

Here,

in the bathtub,

I let my body rise

to the surface,

let my old fetal self

unfurl my limbs and neck

so my new eyes

and freshened mind

can see me as I glisten,

as I glow.

Here,

a dam I never knew

I had built

bursts inside,

and thoughts of

blemishes,

scars,

spidering veins

are swept out to sea

as I caress

this precious vessel

that carries me.

---

Sara Letourneau is a poet, freelance book editor, writing coach, and writing workshop instructor who lives in suburban Massachusetts. Her poetry has received first place in the Blue Institute’s 2020 Words on Water Contest and appeared in Mass Poetry’s Poem of the Moment and The Hard Work of Hope, Constellations, Soul-Lit, Amethyst Review, The Avocet, The Aurorean, Golden Walkman Magazine, Aromatica Poetica, and Muddy River Poetry Review, among others. When she’s not working or writing, she enjoys drinking tea, doing yoga, reading, cooking and baking, and going on adventures (including traveling) with her boyfriend. Her manuscript for her first full-length collection of poems is currently on submission. You can learn more about Sara at https://heartofthestoryeditorial.com/.