"The Watcher...I watched her"

She allows me to view her evening ritual..

She wrestles a sweater over her head.. After it catches her earrings
Next.. Gravity forces her denim skirt to parachute downward
Finally, violet panties drop unto the laundry pile.. A dark contrast
To the cream color emporium
Her garments fall quietly.. It seems losts against
the rumble of old plumbing and pings of porcelin
she stretches to toss the day behind her
The computer problems.. At the line of the pharmacy
The constant pull of caffeine on her psyche
She surrenders to the therapeutic echo
Bathwater running languid from a faucet
humidity coating her bare skin
She sinks into the coffin-length tub
breasts drowning underneath warm waves

The miniature tide lapping against her collarbone
After awhile, my eyes have recorded too much footage
or the sounds of blood rushing to my penis
becomes way too audible
so she rises
tracking moisture across the room
and shuts her curtains decisively
until tomorrow nights episode begins