The water pooled around my feet

The water pooled around my feet,

a tepid, soapy kind of cheat.

I took the hanger from the door

and knelt upon the tile floor.

I fished inside the silver grate

to find the source of all the weight.

It came out slow, a heavy rope,

tangled up in old, dead soap.

A gray and sodden, matted mess

of all the parts of your address.

It sat there dripping on the stone,

the only thing I didn't own.