turned the lights on and found you in the (empty)
bathtub sitting on your knees, next to the faucet.
arms at your sides, you played thoughtlessly with the edges of your
feet, not wanting to look up.
you were asking without asking.
i sat down to pee, watching you, wondering whether it was
my place and wondering whether, considering all the lonely
baths i had taken, waiting for you to not arrive, it would be smart of
me --or fair, really. i guess that was the issue - my preoccupation with
justice. you kept your gaze downward, and seemed nervous.
i took a deep breath and blew it out through tight lips, leaned over and
opened the faucet. let the water heat up, plugged the drain, pulled off your clothes.
while the tub slowly filled i got towels, brought them to the edge of the tub, rolled up my pants.
you sat on the floor of the tub and as the water rose i watched the tension leak out of you...
i could see it in the water, glistening, floating on the surface like oil. i sat on the
edge of the tub and swung my feet over, getting wet up to the shins. you still didn't see
my face. i attended to this job with the
immense and grounded love that holds families upright like umbrellas
in the sand. with my hands i cupped water,
lifted it and released it above your head. this
was no time for soap or excess; this was about cleansing, this was about releasing,
this was about protection and permission and the weight of obligation. i brought
handfuls
of water to your shoulders, your ears, the back of your neck, your belly.
the muscles in my arms said
Love, the seriousness in my jaw said
Love, my feet planted in the water said
Love, and stability, hard work, effort, spoke of the fruits of hard labor.
the water covered you, lined your body in a thick layer of liquid. i ran my thumbs over your eyes, down your nose, across your throat, pressed your lips,
put my palm against your chest, against your belly. i
told you the secret, the One Thing you needed to know, and your body relaxed completely
and you breathed again, safe in the knowledge that you would not be judged, you
would not be held accountable for those things, you could be honest without fear of
yourself. and
yet, you did not look up. you looked lost, with a flame in your eyes. i couldn't help myself; i'm sorry for my selfishness -- i took your face in my hands, and turned your eyes towards me.
i looked into them and slid off the edge of the tub onto your lap. as my clothes soaked through
and my hips warmed in the water i wrapped my arms around your neck, and my legs around your waist, and hoped that we could stay that way forever.
