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The subtle indulgence of soaking enlivens the senses, opens the pores and soothes beyond the surface of the skin. Heat’s fog invites us to sigh away our inner heaviness while calcified worries dissolve in the steam. They say time heals all wounds, but time is a luxury, and sometimes afflictions need a faster balm. Sweat, tears, the sea—all find their form in soaking where salty beads sting the eyes, slip down the nose, fall across lips. The pools purge tired

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This story is from Kinfolk Issue Fourteen

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