Soap Bubbles

They were tiny, these bubbles, he'd called them infinitesimal, though just to show some class, soap tends to move with grace, this was what drew his eyes into a frozen stare, no blinking would disturb the spectacle, the slow descent. At first it left the joint anterior to the ear, just on the outer edge of her first joint, the temporomandibular, a nutty name, it slid, due to the slope onto the SCM, the sternocleidomastoid of the neck, and, urged by movements of the pectorals travelled across into the cleavage from above. No bra was separating these and so they stayed a little while, eventually dislodged by breaths, and at a higher speed passed the small innie, a cough propelled the foam into the thatch, he wished he could have been there, just to catch.