an oval of grey water laps
around the sides of the tub

            & the midday sun peers
through the half-opened window

            watching your elbow
dig into my hip in rhythm

            with the scraping
of the extractor fan’s blades

            the droplets of condensation
write & re-write a message

            on the wall’s peeled paintwork
my fingers slide under

            the glittering surface
that premonitory shudder

            like the first chords
of a song unravelling the water

            dammed against your hip
the steam gathering between us

            like a loom of pale threads
& we could be anyone anywhere

            caught in the simplicity
of a spring weekend pulling the joy

            from each other’s bodies
in handfuls the drifts of soap & cum

            around us pulling apart
& gently floating together again

Daniel Sluman is a 34-year-old poet and disability rights activist. He co-edited the first major UK Disability anthology Stairs and Whispers: D/deaf and Disabled Poets Write Back, and his second collection the terrible was published by Nine Arches Press in 2015. He has appeared widely in UK poetry journals and he was named one of The Huffington Post’s Top 5 British Poets to Watch in 2015. He is currently writing his third collection of poetry, about living with disability and chronic pain, to be published by Nine Arches Press in 2021. He tweets @danielsluman.

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1 Response to bath

  1. Damn that’s sexy as hell.

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