She soaks in a bouquet of musk base notes.
In her hand the champagne glass bubbles with her bath bomb
While her husband sells shares and hedge funds promotes.
By the shabby grey curtains, so tattered and frayed
She washes the flowered pattern cracked china.
In her hand the yellowed mug that reflects her complexion
While her husband groans the pain suffered with angina.
Water for them both, water for us all
From the green open spaces to the concrete urban sprawl
The bubbles reflect in the light of the dawn
On our lives that are public and the lives concealed and withdrawn.
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