Bathing
Clothing abandoned on the bath mat, an old skin
She snake dips into the water alone
No one swims with a snake
Liquid seeps, steals past her pores
She bloats into the shape of the tub
Amorphous, ambiguous not here, not her own
She thinks "You can slip your hand into water
but do you really touch it?"
No one touches her
Not even herself
Fingernails press into skin
Sink into muscle, into bone
Phantoms searching for a reality they can grab
But the heart pulses around her thumb
With all the substance of a drum beat
A plum even Jack Horner would have trouble finding
Impulsively the girl eel flips onto her belly
Submerges her face presses
Her eyes blindly against the tub wall
Beyond the bubbles streaming past her eyelashes
Past her hair waving seaweed around her neck
She feels her buttocks prickle
In the cool air
Coalesce, become solid
She pretends she is a breech birth
© 2006 Delvina Greig