In the bath
by Jayant Kashyap
I’m holding you like a gem – fragile,
bird-like, feathers needing extra care;
you tell me I wash you like a mother
does her baby, child, chiding only
with love. My hands loofah your belly,
thighs, and you laugh. Haven’t we both
put on quite some weight? I nod
and you say how much longer?
We take turns cleaning each other
to our satisfaction, the soap-water
bubbling everywhere. When it’s done,
we stand still in the shower, hugging,
our naked bodies drinking stomach-
fuls till they ache. I’m kissing
your forehead, hair, ear, you
my collarbone, ribs, heart.
bird-like, feathers needing extra care;
you tell me I wash you like a mother
does her baby, child, chiding only
with love. My hands loofah your belly,
thighs, and you laugh. Haven’t we both
put on quite some weight? I nod
and you say how much longer?
We take turns cleaning each other
to our satisfaction, the soap-water
bubbling everywhere. When it’s done,
we stand still in the shower, hugging,
our naked bodies drinking stomach-
fuls till they ache. I’m kissing
your forehead, hair, ear, you
my collarbone, ribs, heart.
Jayant Kashyap works across poetry, nonfiction and visual art. After two pamphlets, including Unaccomplished Cities (Ghost City Press, 2020), and a zine, Water (Skear Zines, 2021), he’s now working on a couple of longer collections about people, places and being in love.