French Au Pair

I walked into the kitchen
early afternoon
she was wearing
a short grey nightshirt
an expensive one that tucked in ribbons at the bottom

She was young,
not older than twenty
visiting from France,

I watched soap suds
drain from sink
I watched her do dishes
I watched her bare legs
as if they were some extension of herself
into the world of showing
not caring
wanting
a catwalk of showing off,
I heard her laughing on the phone to her boyfriend
Did he care?

I wondered how
why
I tried to remember a time when
I didn't mind doing dishes in a short grey t-shirt

I have grown so self-conscious
She seemed, as a European, to be so much more open
than me, an American
I wondered why they were so open
why we were so closed?