Bath Time This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

April 20, 2009
Custom User Avatar
More by this author
The Shampoo is the one
We used to clean the dog
When I was young.

I cannot smell flowers
When I use it,
Only clean dog.

The suds collect between
The strands of my hair
And glitter like rhinestones
On a flapper's undergarments.

The conditioner is the gag gift
I got on my sixteenth birthday.
My friends said it smelled like
The pine air-freshener
I kept in my beat-up old car.

The pine smell mixed with the rose salts
Reminding me of the cover of a Vogue ­magazine
That I stole from my mother.

The model was perched on a rocky river bed
Like a wood nymph
The Vogue photographers just stumbled upon.

The soap is the licorice one
He gave me for our one-month anniversary.
He said I was not a vanilla girl
And should not use vanilla soap.

The soap bubbles clung to my skin
Like pockets of previously unexplored
Intergalactic space.

I pull the drain and watch
The cloudy water tornado out.

I take a deep breath and sigh.
It is nice to smell like myself.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback