BATHTUB TALES by Abby Jean

Jan 3 ’17

Tub.
I sit in the tub.
What a funny word, tub.
My body a lub in the tub.
I love my tub.

My mind’s racing.
I distract it with foolishness.
So as to at least draw some form of focus.
Some form of organized chaos.
Chaos, infinite inside my being.

It spews from the black holes.
Within the centre of my cells.
Each cell, every one, my innate.
Infinite galactic access, spewing.
Quiet the mind to consciously manifest…

I step back to view my thought visions.
So many flash and glide and swim through.
I let them.
I inhale deeply. Hold.
Exhale.

Love.
I choose a thought form to focus.
Love.
I repeat now aloud instead of in my head.
Thought visions immediately brew up a storm..

I see him.
I see him too.
I see them.
Within my visions, my memories, my conscious.
I bring forth the ones that make me feel good…

Love.
Number one goes to he.
I see him so vivid.
Memory stamped, carved, imbedded.
I Love him.

I see his sly smirk the most.
Actually, that position is challenged,
By his thinking face…
My favourite face of them all, the most.
I love to watch him think…

Creativity fills his insides.
Imagination swirls and forms.
I love it.
So permanently intriguing.
So permanently infinite.

I switch thought visions now.
Now I see him, yes, he.
The one who stands tall and cozy.
Like a grizzly bear.
The one I’m magnetically drawn to…

That facial expression of his.
The one I see the most.
The one that looks me right in the eye.
The one that speaks without words.
“Come here. Come gimme a kiss.”
 
I miss him, I miss him dearly…
My heart still crackles at the thought of him.
My heart chakra tightens up, retreats.
Where are you my lost Love…
I miss your smile so dearly…

I take a moment to cry.
The tears bubble as I write.
So I allow them…
Cleansing…
In the tub.

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