Comfort Poem by Brian Murphy

The cold tile against my cheek,
Steam floating, caressing my back and arm
Simple and alone
I lay, naked and breathing shallow
The sound of water echoes
The smell of bleach
Amidst damp towels and old clothes I lay
The world seperate from an impervious nest
Only threatened by my own thought
Only vunerable to a wandering mind
A bead of water slides down the wall
My attention grabs it, holds it
Focus on anything, focus on everything