In An Orange Tub

-three whispered words
two bare bodies
one orange orifice-

dim light burns in a lantern
atop the ledge of an opening;
the faucet streams in shades
incomprehensible.

mesmerizing waters hold
something afloat—
carry the weight not of words,
not of sound—souls.

abide by this humble abode,
this chamber of chromium
enfolding itself in the warmth
of love’s electric glow.

I mutter the words again
so as not to allow
the memory to slip
from my remembrance,
as two bodies slip
out of an orange tub
naked.

Brinn W.