The exhaust fan hums — too loud,
incessant, familiar,
just enough noise to calm the mind.
Bath after endless travels.
The first foot slips in — slight burning,
a test, a negotiation.
The hum steadies. Tut tut tut.
A mini engine in the wall.
The whole body lowers.
Finally, the sigh.
Water laps. Bones crackle.
Recycled air, recycled hours,
not quite myself yet.
The dry fuselage still in my nostrils.
Tut tut tut —
a flashback: tearful flight,
face turned to the window,
clouds indifferent.
Breathe.
Ears under now.
The hum deeper, but the same.
Toes pink. Hair wet.
Home.