It happens quite often

At night before bed

While I’m sinking back

As if into a coffin

The water’s a bit too hot

But I let it flow over me

The day melts away

Out my hands pop

I crack open a book

Stare at black symbols on a white page

In a few minutes it’s time to stop

But in between there is tragedy

That white paper slips out

It floats like a leaf

I can’t move fast enough

The water flows over top it

It crinkles

The writing on it smudges

Ink dissipates

I scoop it out

Steam flows from atop the tub

Water clings to the paper like a grudge

It crinkles and melts

Has the texture of felt

I close the book and set it aside

Before it can be lost too

My eyelids are heavy

I lost my place in the book

Somewhere I was swimming

Maybe that’s the point of reading in the tub

To get lost

To find love

To venture off

To let the waters engulf you

To make you soft