Landis Everson sunbathing, circa some time ago
Rinse (A Shampoo Sequel)
There wasn’t anything there.
What came out of the bottle was air to
soften a loneliness dulling my hair.
My hair gleamed in the evening instantly
like light. The sweet tiles smelled of white roses.
My hair threw me across the shower,
across the room. You saw me,
empty bottle in hand. You came for me.
You genie you saw me naked everywhere
where it mattered, where you rubbed
hair against hair, where on stilts steamily
we crossed the bathroom floor
to the bedroom next door where the stilts
slipped apart, where sheets folded us up in one rose not yet far from full blooming.