Beer and a bath

A beer and a bubble bath: sarnac hefeweizen and booth’s shea butter cream bath. Dear friend, this was the best idea you’ve ever had. I’m thinking of someone and not because I’m naked – it’s nothing like that though my breasts stand out like cones in a construction zone – how are they so white compared to the rest of me? I wait for the bubbles to disperse, but they never do and the cut from the foil around the wine bottle when I was cooking dinner earlier begins to burn. I bled for 20 minutes, left a red trail on a lemon’s skin. I’m thinking of someone who I hope can hear me – sending a thought, a prayer, a loving pigeon into the rain. I dip down, dunk my head under water – when I was younger I couldn’t hear the water this way, always deaf with earplugs because I had tubes and one water droplet would lead to ear after ear of infections. And now, listening, I hear an energy roaring like a freight train. Is that me? Is that what we sound like through the water’s echo? Do our bodies carry so much steam?

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