I usually write poems and microwave oven manuals; I’m but a simple man.
Imagine that this is a poem.
The process started when I walked in on you, you’re so daring you were having a bath behind an open door
in some old fart’s flat.
There was too much courage in your
When I went for a piss later, the bathtub was empty,
and I’m too down-to-earth to imagine your presence into it.
I’m sorry, I’ll try to be a better man in the future.
Photography would help, but that’s more than I dare to wish for.
Dear Edit, I’ve spent today standing in my own shower - I’m sorry I don’t have a tub at home -
- and I was putting your shape into my cracked tub,
I think I’m almost there.