The Bath

The water invites with its tantalising scent
Of rose.
Wisps of steam coil languidly in the still warm air.
A cloud of bubbles floats, pristine and silent.
Toes slid through the cloud to meet the liquid heat below.
Slowly, slowly down
Into a delicious haven for two, a body slips.

She sits and waits, eyes closed against the truth.
A tear escapes to flee across her cheek.
The only place to rest her head this night
Is on the rim,
Its hardness emphasising the emptiness behind.