A gloss white basin set in dark loam wood
With shiny taps that sparkle when they flow.
The walls, half-panelled, are not the colour of mud;
It’s ‘elephant breath’, a grey as soft as a shadow.
The bath stands deep and slopes at foot and head,
The fittings, sitting, centrally on the floor.
Lie down, relax, a place to rest your head.
A place to turn the key and lock the door.
And sometimes, two can leave the world behind.
The bath stands deep and slopes at either end.
With gentle suds caressing hearts and minds,
The sliding bodies falter, then transcend.
The mirror on the wall respects the scene
And quietly disappears into the steam.