**All of the people I know who have drowned**
In the middle of my bath I realize
I don’t remember how to take one
Impatiently, I rest my book on the lid of the toilet
and take my tea bag out of the mug
I watch the brown English breakfast
drip into the blue transparent water
covering my belly as I lift the tea bag
to my chest and shake it
forcing more amber colored drops
onto my nipples, spreading thin over them
catching slightly over stray hairs
before leaking into the bath water
I lower the bag into the tub
and pour the remaining tea from the mug into the blue
I put my chin down and swallow the new
I can’t remember where my father’s father is buried
but I know my mother’s was lost in the ocean
and is most likely still there in some form
inside of the Yellow Sea
For now, all of the people I know
who have drowned
are men and younger men
When I got out of the bath
you held my head in the hotel room
as we embraced and I thought *oh god*
*this is an intimate moment*
and then I closed my eyes
and allowed myself to feel it
A calming note about your life today
is that the sunset looks like
a peach that caught fire
and is speeding away from you
so that you don’t have to burn
**Cognizance**
You press your finger
into the part
where my belly fat
meets the top of my legs
when I sit down
and the crease
absorbs you completely
I suddenly become
hyperaware
that a person can only
suck in their stomach
I take a deep breath
as you tell me
nothing eventful happened
at work today
You take a deeper breath
as I tell you I hate the sea
and everything contained in it
because I am terrified of its darkness
and the depth of it
You bring a raspberry pastry to your lips
and I think
*Is there ever going to be*
*a more delicious bite*
**When one says surrender**
I stepped over a single feather on a sidewalk square
It was barely broken, clean and straight
I thought *hope that bird is ok*
You took a shower directly after me
and saw strands of my hair lining the tub drain
But you did not say
a small prayer for me
That would be insane
*I’m fine, you idiot* I say to myself
I never especially wanted to put a man on a leash
until you came home from work one day
with a piece of twine wrapped three times around your neck
It was previously used to hold wash rags together
You began to untie the knot
I told you to keep it on and I led you to bed
When you went down on me
I wrapped the twine tightly around my fist
until there was no more give
pulling you so close to my skin and bone
that there wasn’t any possibility for you to breathe
Anyway I don’t care about what’s in
my mouth, or yours
I don’t even think about it
I only care about smiling
and worrying about whether or not
I am doing too much of it
*Sarah Jean Alexander wrote* * (2)* *(Big Lucks Books, 2015) and LOUD IDIOTS (Second Books, 2016). She is the poetry editor of Shabby Doll House and tweets* (1)*.*
1) (http://link.lennyletter.com/click/8408515.0/aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuYW1hem9uLmNvbS9ncC9wcm9kdWN0LzE5NDE5ODUwMDkvcmVmPWFzX2xpX3RsP2llPVVURjgmdGFnPWxlbm55bGV0dGVyLTIwJmNhbXA9MTc4OSZjcmVhdGl2ZT05MzI1JmxpbmtDb2RlPWFzMiZjcmVhdGl2ZUFTSU49MTk0MTk4NTAwOSZsaW5rSWQ9NDhjZGQ2YWUwMjQ5NjYxMGI0MzljNGQyNmQ2NDYxOWUmc3JjPW5sJm1hZz1MRU4mbGlzdD1ubF9MRU5fbmV3cyZkYXRlPTEwMDExNg/5672eded1aa312a87f2d6890Bc859047f)
2) (http://link.lennyletter.com/click/8408515.0/aHR0cHM6Ly90d2l0dGVyLmNvbS9zYXJhaGplYW5hbGV4P3NyYz1ubCZtYWc9TEVOJmxpc3Q9bmxfTEVOX25ld3MmZGF0ZT0xMDAxMTY/5672eded1aa312a87f2d6890B8ae176a5)
