Inhalation

A new friend by my bed
Watching ”Jersey Girl” made me understand two vital things about myself:
1. I am never going to die in child birth.
2. I began to dislike male actors with an American accent, specially when they say I love you. It makes me cry and remember, all at once.
So I set off to have bath afterwards…
without the usual candles…
without waiting two hours for the water to cool down…
without even understanding what it means to be naked I got into the bath
without irritation about the music, the water drowned my hair so for the moment before washing it smelled like dry potatoes in summer (I know that smell so well from my grandmother’s cellar)
Between washing my face and shaving – men’s shaving gel is the cheapest that’s why after shaving I stink like a smoothly shaven beard – I sank back so that just my breasts peeked out. I looked at these swollen symbols of femininity (believe it or not I just spelled that word wrong!) and thought how you have taken me, how your semen would never stay inside me, how you have taken my child away and how you attempted to delude me. 
And yet I felt like calling you in that minute.
Fools are the ones who rob themselves of everything.
I inhaled water for five seconds.
The soap left a weird stain on the water’s surface. The same kind that is on my jigsaw puzzle (half way done).
I hate it when I lose hair. It clutches onto my skin and like snakes rubs itself full of pleasure until I am annoyed enough to remove it.
By the time I heaved my body out of the tub, someone at the pub sang Happy Birthday. I looked around to check if I am in a David Lynch movie and then reached for the towel. It is only a god given gift that I did not slip on the water stains on the floor, caused by me getting out of the bath five seconds after stepping in, just to get my flannel.
Now that my hair is truly dry…a sand dry
Some pigeon coos on my chimney so bits of the stone role down into my fireplace. 
The evening ends when I put the rubbish out, position myself with a cup of tea, in my bed with fresh bed linen (nobody still understands the true value of it – sadly).

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