Years later we’ll remember the bathtub
the position of the taps
the water, slippery
as if a bucketful of eels had joined us …
we’ll be old, our children grown up
but we’ll remember the water sloshing out
the useless soap,
the mountain of wet towels.
‘Remember the bathtub in Belfast?’
we’ll prod each other –
– Sujata Bhatt
Tagged: love poetry, Sujata Bhatt