Billy Collins' poem "Istanbul," relates the pleasures of going to a Turkish bathhouse. The stanza that I like creates a picture of how his body feels when he acknowledges the pleasures and is grateful for the pleasures of being taken care of.
But it was not until he sudsed me / behind my ears and between my toes / that I felt myself filling with gratitude / the way a cloud fills with rain, / the way a glass pipe slowly fills with smoke.
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