Love is a Game We Play

My lace night shift hangs on the back of the parlor chair; bottles of perfume are erected in a straight line on my antique bureau. The window is slightly ajar, allowing the smells and sounds of the street to filter through. Scented bath salts seduce me, as I float on my back in the bathtub, watching the nightfall in darkness. He soon walks in, reaching for me the way he does. He climbs into the tub and uses his fingers and soap bubbles to make intricate circles upon my abdomen, making way for infinite possibilities. Taking another sip of wine, I relax back into him, as the light of an only candle flickers in the darkness, neither one of us wanting to fall in love just yet. The sex keeps it simple, illuminating us as we kiss, in between mouthfuls of hunger, he reads to me, as my hands disappear for a few moments, and his reading is plausibly interrupted, we both succumb to one another. Wet and clean, I slip into my lace night shift. He slips out the door into the night’s darkness. Heading to the metro, he turns and looks back, as I look back into the remaining bath bubbles. He stops at an underground bar for a martini; I blow out the candle, and finish my glass of wine in the quiet darkness of my apartment. In the morning, he calls, I let it go into voice-mail...we both enjoy the game.