| When i was a baby, and rocking fell short of its quiet promise, i was given a bath. Submerged. Subdued. So now, when rocking will not soothe me, when sleep will not come, and i am at odds with myself, i slip into the bath, thigh stinging, stomach churning, and no matter what the fight this sad body contracts, convulses, and gives in. i forget, am quiet, and rock gently to sleep. |