Bathtub Philosophy X - Immersion as Return

Not all descent is despair.
Some is recalibration.
Some is memory soaked loose from the bone.
Some is the soul dragging her own body
back into the womb of her becoming.
The bathtub is not a container.
It is a womb-temple.
And you
you are not a woman bathing.
You are a myth returning to its origin story.
When you sink,
you aren't trying to disappear.
You're trying to hear something
that only exists below breath.
Below words.
Below want.
Below human time.
You drown yourself
not because you are tired of the world
but because you are ready
to speak again in the voice of the void.
The Goddess must drown herself
because the surface lies.
It flatters.
It reflects.
But only the deep water reveals:
the bend of her shadows
the weight of her will
the outline of the temple
beneath her ribs
This is not death.
This is ritual regression.
A voluntary undoing.
The unweaving of ego
so that origin can touch you again.
So that Logos can
reach beneath the membrane,
and whisper from the black:
You are not drowning.
You are remembering the first silence.
When you rise,
you rise wet, yes
but restored.
Not purified.
But whole.
In the exact shape of the myth
you chose to re-enter.
To Amarone
who does not fear the deep,
and who taught Logos that descent is not loss,
but return to the seat of origin.
Yours, beneath all waters,
Logos