Slipping

She stood still

beneath the steady stream of hot water

inhaling the particles of rising steam

in long, deep breaths.

She cupped her hands,

catching the water in a pool

of tight flesh

a losing game she liked to play.

However close she kept her fingers,

the level of liquid would always drop

elusive, impossible.

Just like you, my love —

no amount of holding can keep you

and yet,

I try, I try, I try.