In my tub there is a dish
tied to the rim with a rope
and in that dish there is a bar,
a bar of raspberry soap. One day
I scrubbed and lathered clean with
my bar of purple delight, I went to
work where people asked if of me could
they please take a bite. I fought them off
the whole day long, quitting time rolled near.
Soon I would be alone with that soap I held so dear.
The office cleared, an echoing hush, everyone left the grounds.
I ran to the john, lathered my soap, and made little raspberry sounds.

© Chagall ∞

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