6) Bath

March 5, 2013 § Leave a comment

I walked in on you two in the bath. I didn’t mean to. I promise.

You had suds in your curls and she was washing your back, pouring the cloudy water over your shoulders, pushing it down your chest with her fingers like how gravity pulls water off cliffs towards the ground.

You are that cliff. Your body the home of a miniature waterfall. And she is your fish.

I only glanced for a moment, and then hurried out, calling my apologies. You both shouted back that it was fine.

But I know it wasn’t.

I have broken the glass of your intimate moment, your box was four cornered, made with thick plastic, and I melted a hole with candle eyes until I uncovered what lies deep beneath your clothes.

We can never sit and watch TV just the three of us anymore. Your wet naked bodies will fill my head and dance in bubbles around my chaotic brain, so loudly that I will be sure you can hear them.

And if anyone mentions baths or water or even general wetness on the screen I will blush so hot that my arms will ache from the weight of this embarrassment.

I have only met her a few times, but I did really like her. Now she is just bright pink nipples peeking through white suds and a clammy flushed face. A beautiful face. All damp black hair and eyebrows so thick they carry their own mysteries.

Your eyes were closed as you took a deep breath in through your nostrils, not letting any moment of wet bliss escape your senses. Her wrinkled pink fingers playing with your chest hair. You are a bear and this is the wild.

Two lovers in a bath together is wild. And in the wild everyone can see. My tree branch was the door, my self-conscious apologies a coded mating call.

Because now I am sure that I am in love with your girlfriend. But maybe only when she is in the bath.

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