O Bathtub!
I love your warm embrace
You are like a womb
but full of soapy bubbles.
At the end of a long, hard day
I come into you,
you soapy womb,
and sigh like the world is coming to a quiet end.
And when I must leave you,
When my large fingers
have turned into crinkled craisins,
I dry off
with a towel
rougher than you
would ever dream to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem