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theinscrutableescapee
7 years ago

bath drain

Nine o’clock bath

and I run

my fingers

on the steam’s

ashes

on the mirror

revealing

your

unvaccinated

velvet

daydreams.

My knees

glance out at

unsigned checks

stolen aspirin

spoiled milk

her lipstick’s shards

in your cheeks.

My skin skims

unsent postcards

one-way tickets

to the depths

of your mind

but I missed the flight

every time

I will continue to stare

at the sad

air vents

the antiseptic.

I will continue

to cut my hair

until I won’t feel

your fingertips

knocking

at the auburn 

curls

at the door

of the past

so

do your

lips 

do receipts?

© Margaux Emmanuel

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