La BañEra

I caught you through the glass of the bathtub
when an open door invited me to watch the scene
of your skin that gets wet and wakes up among the steam clouds

The water falls constantly, runs through you and seeks the floor
I remember that in the afternoon it was me who measured your body
with the perseverance of someone who discovers what they are looking for
and still takes their time

And I watch you through the glass of the bathtub
you pick up the soap and I focus on your hips
you pass it on your skin so sweetly that I envy its path

Your gestures are not visible nor the color of your eyes
dissolved with steam, your lips don't wear their usual red tone
and the tone of your skin always against the wall
results in curves, contours, soap, and foam
the remedy for my thirst, I mean, for my thirst

I'm watching you through the glass of the bathtub
I see almost everything and everything I see blinds me
I haven't called you and in your privacy you don't realize
I thought about visiting you and you so beautiful and unwell
that I decided to leave but not to close the door
to see you when I write and not let you disappear