At Some Point I Discovered

At some point I discovered if I stretched

on the rim of the bathtub in front of the window,

I could see over the half--curtain and into the bathroom

of the symmetrical unit across the alcove. One night, sloshing

soggy, in the cooling bathtub of 31 Brewster Street,

I saw the light come on across the way. To my amazement, Angelique,

the twenty--something nanny for the noisy toddlers

of the next--door, yuppie couple, was undressing

for her bath, not twenty feet away.

This was a living body – all

sweat and blood and flesh – and I was standing

on the edge of the bathtub, peering over

the curtain at her – blond hair, unraveling over

pale shoulders, plump arms, breasts – round and pale,

her bottom -- round and pale, as she

bent to remove the brown wool tights. I stretched

on my toes, to see everything -- dripping

and naked from my bath. And then she stiffened,

jerked abruptly upright, and to my horror

her blue eyes came full frontal to return my stare,

they were not fierce, I remember

or embarrassed, or even surprised -- more ironic, almost struck

with disbelief, at which, I became aware of my own

naked form, framed clearly in the window

of my own bathroom – my scrawny arms, hairless chest, everything

was plainly visible to her, perched as I was

on the rim of the tub. I remember her eyebrows

lifted slightly, amused and knowing. She smiled and then

in the next moment, it was I -- plunged in mortification -- who

turned to cover myself.