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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