Bath

Hanoi. July month. Friday evening.

The rain outside has stopped. It’s all gone quiet. First foot in the bath. The second one follows. I am grabbed by the extreme heat of the water. All pores open up to gentle bubbles. My body slips under the softness and my head goes free.

Flashes of Sheffield. Another sunny July day. The city was a ramble of hills. Signposts were confusing. I remembered myself lost in a corner characterized by grey and black graffiti. Up hills, steps and stairs, I was found in a hotel room. A lush bath.

Dragging me back to real time in my flat is quickly dissolving bubbles.  My legs feel so naked. Reality is bare. Gathering thoughts, I rise. Waiting next door is open arms. However hot it could be, it is totally possible to feel warmer; because love is as real as reality.

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