I bathed until the thrill of you was gone,
Soapy bubbles burst, I had been in too long,
Only the foamy breath of bath salt remained
As any thought of you slipped on down the drain.
Just in towel, on the puddled floor,
Steamed face in the mirror, not as trusting anymore.
It’s not as easy to forget
As it is to dry
Each clinging droplet.