Baths in the Dark

Baths in the Dark • Charles Jones

He liked to take baths

In near pitch-black lighting

With music blasting from his phone

Carefully balanced on the small windowsill

Wind whistling through the cracked glass

That woman in the mirror would dance

Which made her more bearable to behold

Even in her shadowy mass

The paint chipping off the walls

Delicately falling into the water

Where he lay

Motionless

And cold