I step out of,

the presence of, a tangled green

sharp dress; the sleeves split with tongues,

hissing.

 

Rinsed, these scales fall down my back,

right down and to the porcelain,

where I stepped into the bath,

her toe barely underneath mine.

 

I have a job to do,

kicking through the clogged up waves,

have to do it right,

stand my ground, not slip,

 

but like a terrible carp,

her mouth clips - the bubbles smack, incomplete;

 meaning an insult,

I used to give air.

 

Foot inside her smirk,

I continue - my song

carrying through the room,

like a white blood cell.