Huffy Fluffy Hotel Stuffy

With both taps running, there I sat
upon the bath's cold edge
And bubbled up a violet froth
with candles on the ledge 

Slid under purple water,
muscles calling out with glee
Think I'll stay here till I'm purple, too
(or feel the need to pee!)

Dreamy-warmth, the bath was over
by a sharp knock at the door
Reminding me I had to be
some boring place by four

So hauled my pruned, red baggage
out from marbled luxuree
Reached over to the golden ring
and pulled the towel to me

A fluffy, puffy, cloud-like thing,
too soft for drying bits
Like the scoopy parts one squats for
or under both my ti pits

Call me fussy or ungrateful
but I need my towels rough
Like a sheet of coarse sandpaper
scratching up a peachy buff ! 

Lest it never feels entirely clean
and dry upon oneself
If my choice of terry towelling
isn't all dried out itself........

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