sunday morning precarious

her: clinging wet hair like seaweed wrapped around her sashimi face clutched wet towel haphazardly dangling around her chest precariously on the verge of nude toes wiggle in the soft carpet she reaches for something preoccupied . . . glancing up, in my direction me: still groggy with sleep looking up and stunned with shock, wonder, and embarrassment i don't even know her still, i'm entranced by the soft curves of her calves ignoring other temptations, until . . . oh! excuse me!, face blushing red turn quickly, to stare at the wall. exiting ungracefully, then closing the door chiding myself for hesitating all the while grinning like a grade school prankster later: well, . . . good morning, i said with a smile good morning, she smiled back precariously on the verge of laughter