WATCHING HER WASHING.

TWO MAIDS IN 1916.

Susie watches from the bed as Polly
Undresses to wash in the washbowl in

The icy cold attic. She doesn’t want
To get up, doesn’t want to help the cook

In the kitchen with her babbling and
Moans and swipes, she wants to lie down and dream

Of embracing Polly close and kissing
Her neck and lips. Not that she’d dare kiss her

Neck or lips in reality of course,
Polly would smack her jaw, give her what for.

But she likes to imagine it just for
A while, just for a bit. She gazes as

Polly breaks the thin ice in the washbowl,
Curses, swears, plunges her hands into the

Icy water and throws it into her
Face and around her neck. Susie likes the

Way Polly’s tits become small solid mounds
In the cold morning air, the hair pushed back

From the face, the shapely back turning this
Way and that as the body shivers in

The cold room. Susie sighs softly. Polly
Curses loudly, grabs the white towel and rubs

Herself dry, pushes the towel beneath arms
And around neck and dries the face. Susie

Stares as Polly brushes her hair, raises
Her arms, a small glimpse of tits, underarm

Hair. Polly puts down the brush and turns and
Says, ain’t you getting up, you lazy mare,

Lying there, giving me the stare and drags
Back the blankets and sheet and pulling at

Susie’s hand, brings her to the side of the
Bed, upright, sticking up hair, Polly smiles,

Susie smiles, takes in the smile, teeth, tits and
Breathing in deeply continues to stare.