I heard the door close today. 
A soft sigh of air pushed aside. 

You, home with me after all this time.

The water in my bath shimmered.
Droplets cascaded over out thrust breasts as I shifted, 
Longing to feel your touch along my flank. 

Did the floor creak? 

A pillow of rainbowed soap bubbles lathered, 
In swaths I scraped the surface clean. 

Why did I sense you here?
You’d never been to this place. 

I could hear your voice, its siren call I could not help but heed. 
Echoes floated in the steam, or was it fantasy? 
I saw you there in the room beyond. 

“Baby, come here,” I wished to say, 
But remorse grips my tongue yet today.
Inconsidered words in different days, 
Strewn about with careless ease, 
Taught the silence that crushes now. 

Peace gained at too great a price. 

You were here, I swear it so.
My exile redeemed, restitution for a debt now paid. 
Don’t leave me here like this

With just my imagination.