bathtub water scalding and scented
with hot flowers,
tonka bean oil.
watching the sponge of my pubic hair
bounce back reluctantly
(or do I watch my pubic hair bounce back
like a reluctant sponge?)
when I raise my hips from the water.
watching the movement of periphery things
that don’t stir in the room but
in the lobe where Psychosis lives,
often idle and staring
until a sudden fit startles Him
back into existence,
selfish and hungry for my attention,
like a neglected boyfriend
or orchid.
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