wishes

i am the hard rock underground electronic back-in-black girl, the one tearing up the field and tackling homework, but when the books pile up and scraps of paper fly, a barricade and tornado around me, all i want, really, is a hot bath. a wide six-foot-long tub with claw feet, with bubbles and jasmine salts and steam swirling from the surface. low lights and silence save for the lapping of the water. i can sink into it and let it steam away the stress, relax the sprain in my ankle, calm the goosebumps on my arms. lay there up to my shoulders, listening to wachet auf and lullaby for my favorite insomniac or aurora borealis, and not thinking. then have a heater on in the room and step out and into an oversized cream towel, new and thick and soft, feet sinking into a rug. bundling myself into blue pajamas with christmas trees and turquoise-striped fuzzy socks, sitting up against my wall with a mug of earl grey and a guilty pleasure book for half an hour until i take off my glasses and sleep.