Keep the Shower Running

Photo by NOTAVANDAL on Unsplash

And I’ll ease on your lap real quietly.

The moans bubbling in your mouth will feed me all the air I need. They’ll never hear us over the water pounding the linoleum. As my knees pound the linoleum. They’ll write off the lapping as washing. They’ll just think you’re getting clean, how you do once a day. Though, not usually at this hour. Yeah, they’ll just think you’re getting clean. But Jesus Christ, the way we move can only make you dirty. Jesus Christ, you’re so dirty.

Just keep the shower running.

And put a towel under the door. And don’t skip me in the next rotation. Actually, hand it over now. The giggles will make them think we’re in here fucking. Just let them think we’re fucking. All of us, fucking. They’ll leave us alone if they think we’re fucking. Oh my god, did I say that already? Fucking. Fucking. Fucking. Fuck. There’s someone coming.

Just keep the shower running.

And bite on the washcloth when you scream. Your tears won’t recognize themselves amongst the monsoon. They’ll lose their dopamine-coated chemicals in the mist, everything that makes them special will slide down the drain. Now, they’re just water. It’s nothing. It’s just water. They’ll think that it’s just water.

Just keep the shower running.