thoughts in the tub (7)

Taking a bath down

the boarding house hall,

soaking and drifting off

into the twilight between

watching the ceiling and dreaming,

he sees a petite, brown ballerina

turning atop an old fashioned

wind-up music box,

her dress fanning out

like a parasol

from a wasp slender waist

revealing dance sculpted legs.

He remembers the moment

she took off the kerchief

that covered her pixie cut hair

with bangs fringing her brow,

the look of her delicate ears.

and the way her eyes melted

to chocolate from stone

when she looked into his own.

aftershock magnitude 3.7

sends a ripple through the tub

Pouring a kettle of hot water

to warm up the four gallons of cool

she’s already poured in,

Ruthie remembers the feel

of his arm cross her shoulders,

the warmth of his hand on her arm.

and his mess of dark curls

spilled like a bowl of spaghetti

on top of his head.

his wire framed glasses

that failed to hide those

warm puppy dog eyes, 

–that’s probably what did her in–

but damn it, she’d tried

to put him out of mind. besides,

the way he brandished that mop,

poked it right in the chest

of that asshole. had to be some

kind of decent man to do that,

didn’t he? and she’s glad

he isn’t too tall, ‘cuz she

barely comes up to his chin,

she could tuck in real nice

with her hands on his back,

and his on her waist...

she blushes as a flood rushes

to southerly regions

that haven’t been visited since

....the last time that well

had been plumbed.

her bath has gone cool

as she’s fooled with the fancy

that she can mess with a guy

like this Henry. Besides.

he moves like he’s put together

with tinker toy joints

and rubber bands.

be best if he’s out of mind.

she’s sure she can do it,

but it won’t hurt to see him

when he comes round

to get her tonight, will it?

she steps out of the galvanized

tub, grabs a towel,

asks her cousin Loretta

if she’ll hot comb her hair.

Loretta gives her a lifted

eye brow and examining stare.

I hope you ain’t fixin’ to do

what I think you are, girl.

there’s nothin’ but heartache

for sale in that store.

I made up your cot,

now you best get some sleep

and don’t even try tellin’ me no lies,

-cuz I see what you got,

in those dreamy eyes.