My bathtub is filled to the brim with condensed clouds.
They envelop my body like an opaque dream As liquid weight presses down on my tired bones.
Floral herbs swirl past them cordially,
Almost as if breathing a soft "Hello."
My peripheral vision becomes lost to a colorless fog as I stare at the clean tile wall, dazed and vacant.
As I steep, my heart melts into the water, leaving my heaving chest an empty cavity.
Try as I might, if I know one thing, it's that you cannot retrieve a liquid heart and place it back within its ivory case to be as it was before.
So I fill the new opening with herbs and petals,
with honey,
with time,
And I smile as the honey glues nearly everything in place...
