Unfinished business

Tonight, as I filled my bath with warm words
I watched them come out of the tap
I noticed they were hard to see
crystal clear as water

I turned on the cold tap
and watched harsh words come out
in velvet, purple navy
They got darker
the longer I looked at them
becoming pitch black as the darkest of nights
needless to say: no stars

I played with the taps some more
until the temperature seemed right
Wouldn’t want to be burned by kindness
you know

As I stepped into the bath
my foot touched rock
I looked down

The harsh words had turned to stone
their craters filled with crystal
I stomped on them to flatten them out
not wanting to lie down on a volcano

Some bits broke off and muddied the water
but the volcanoes didn’t give
I ran more warm words
to clear up the water
but needed more than the tub could contain

I filled my bathroom with warm words
Boy, I need that bath
I let them cleanse the floor the walls
and flow across the threshold
running down the stairs
take away the dust
that has been gathering for so long

(I may have hidden a cinquain in there for #naprowimo prompt nr. 5, who knows?)

I just realised this poem would not exist without the beautiful pyrograph you can find here - either read the story that sprouted from it or scroll to the bottom of the page .

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