Paula Hen. On the other side of the sea (№ 449051)

You lie on your side, with your back to me. Nude. Your dark hair, tangled and pinched by your own body, scattered over the pillows, tickling my chin. They smell like a June evening, dreams and comfort. It's been three months and you still haven't changed your shampoo. You loved to add essential oils to the bath, the water in it was constantly hot, forcing the skin to take on a bright red hue, as if it lacked sensitivity. Psychologists say it's from loneliness. But were you lonely here without me?