Bathtub Theatre

Sometimes I find my thoughts reflected on the ceiling.

Gazing up, sinking naked in a bathtub,

And finding that my roof is undulating like ripples on a lake.

Gracefully, like dancers calculating every step,

Every gesture on a stage.

I’ll shine the spotlight on one at a time.

To follow his footsteps, to find the secrets hidden under her script.

To see if I can find a hint of a smile in the middle of a burial scene…

An insider joke in a seamless gesture.

Watching closely, did I just catch an exchange of looks between the prince and the queen?

Was he not supposed to tragically fall in love with the maiden…

We know not what happens behind closed curtains,

And sometimes I like to place a bet.

That the queen of spades loves the king of diamonds on stage,

But embraces the prince of hearts after the curtain call.

Actors playing the drama of human life.

Bitter monologues, love confessions, melancholic soliloquies, incestuous desires and murderous intent.

Reflected on my bathroom ceiling.

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