Noir

I crave you, under our noir shower head, surrounded by the white tile covered in holographic rainbows. Water beads falling like rain above us. Streams trace my curves. Changing pace as it winds down my body. The steam, pressed up against the glass, my arms, tangled around you. Golden light hits my fogged silver jewelry and the steam wraps itself around my curls. We're bundled in the smell of humidity while the soft light dances around our shadows. Your fingers brush up against my face as we exchange pleasant dialogue. I want you closer, a place where water can't reach. We can create art with nothing, but the condensation. Relaxation might only last a couple hours. So please cleanse my mind when times arise, where we can't be under our noir shower head.