My
legs are still smooth from shaving last night, and tonight is my
Friday. I'm already up late, and I have nothing to do that wants to be done.
Slow feels good tonight, and I decide to take a bath instead of a shower. I was complimented nicely today, and I feel stretchy,
lithe. I ran the bath and was about to hop in when I saw the
oil.
The oil has been sitting on my bathroom counter, covered in
dust, for over a year. It is infused with dried
wildflowers, and smells earthy and
raw, like
cattails might. I wipe off the glass bottle and pull out the
cork. Oil, I have missed you. On dry
Michigan nights, I would take a bath and pour this oil into the water, steaming up half my
apartment with its weedy aroma. I pour about a
tablespoon of oil into the bath and step in.
The oily
hot water might as well defy gravity and
slide stealthily up my legs, I can feel the slippery stuff penetrating my skin. I sit down and I am covered in stealthy-slip warmth. I rub my knees - they are
dolphin skin and my shoulders the slick sturdy skin of an
orca. I slide on the bottom of the tub on my
buttery vertebrae and ooze to the center of the tub.
This is
deliciously oily.