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Turkish Cotton

By: Kristen Feyt

By Kristen FeytPublished 3 years ago 1 min read

I pull out the freshly dried towels

And press their warmth upon me

Silencing the computer’s howls

Calming instinctual fight or fee

The terry cloth coated comfort

Smells like a sin’s forgiveness

A baptism of dilapidated hurt

Simulating mother’s nearness

The plush white woven quiet

Pauses the Earth’s pirouette

Silencing the mind’s endless riot

Paying off anxiety’s rising debt

The heat palpitates my flesh

An earthquake of exuviation

Sending ripples of bodily refresh

From a basic absorbent creation

I savor the perfect simplicity

Of my soul’s fleeting defrosting

Feeling the cooling electricity

Of coziness energy exhausting

The goosebumps start to relax

As the towel’s fever breaks

The peace reveals its cracks

And reality once again awakes

fact or fiction

About the Creator

Kristen Feyt

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