Ritualism
Cool tiles,
Porcelain or marble,
or faux marble.
Everything white,
Everything smooth,
Inaccessible to the outside world.
In one ritual I sink into the quiet,
Run the water to scalding hot,
High enough to meet the rim,
A measure of controlled chaos,
Unpredictability I can deal with.
Break the meniscus,
Displace no water,
Become one and sink down,
To the brink of comfort.
Ripples will settle,
Near the eyes,
Around the nose,
Hair in seaweed tangles,
The binding force of my atoms,
Relaxing and falling,
Dissolving.
Salt in the sea.
Sugar in tea.
In one ritual I exclude the quiet.
Head angled at my back,
Resting,
Like a dual reliance,
A standing prayer.
I look up and I am given to,
A washing, a cleansing,
A drowning out.
I do not disperse,
I hold together,
Enclose,
All my concerns,
Electrified by noise,
Within myself.