Glycerin Soap, No Dye, No Fragrance

When wet, it lacks grip,
seems like a slippery fish
you can’t hold between palms
and down the cake goes
back into running water,
so fun you try it again,
up to the resting indentation
then the splash to the drain,
soap wiggling and avoiding
the clench of your palms,
capture and loss like love,
pudgy fingers diddling
in the spout’s flow, neck
craned toward the hallway
to make sure no one sees.