Flushy pink cheeks and wrinkled toes peek through iridescent and fragile bubbles
Perching on her nose, her belly, her breasts, her knees
Obscuring the monsters that swim underneath the surface, through soft pink water
And the overwhelming scent of roses
She plunged her head under the water and held her breath in her full cheeks
Wondering what it would feel like for air to exit and water to enter
A perverse and deadly exchange of matter
Only to surface with a gasp into the muted magentas of a too small bathroom
With the thought that rose perfume is used to mask the scent of the dead
