the bath

That, oh, so romantic beginning
drawing a bath for your love
the white porcelain claw foot tub
light streaming through lace curtains
your joy in ministering, these things
is somehow, frustrating to me
the places you stop, seemingly
when I need your help the most
when my bodies' become lax, muscularly
flaccidly assaulted by the waters sway
my fatigue grows with my panic
recognizing how close the water
is to my nose in repose, bouncing
some vibrancy into my bones
in hopes to attract some attention
needing your help becomes the last thing
I want, but am now forced to ask for
so, between cinnamon french toast crackling
I do, ask and you do, come
manage french toast and all
and I am clean and the coffee is strong
and we are together


mefr 05/26/09