Warmth enfolds me.
The cleansing current upon my spine,
without it I'd be filthy,
and safety no longer mine.
I remain concealed, behind this curtain,
due to my most solemn doubt.
For one can never be too certain
how people will react when the truth is out.
I scrub to wash away the grime,
the residue of troublesome time.
This leaves a sweeter scent for others,
while the dirt left, the curtain covers.