Waste
white thighs spread
against the plastic rim of the toilet seat.
a relaxation, a release
and yet – a lack of control.
I couldn’t stop it now if I wanted to.
under the crack in the door
leak voices from the screen
muted sounds telling of a child
gone missing, another life snuffed
in a fusion of metal and asphalt
I sit so long I can smell the urine,
pungent like disinfectant, sour
like truth. I sit
somewhere between laughter and despair.
a bulb on the vanity mirror flickers
but holds and we sit
in garish brightness –
the body’s wastes and I,
I with my wish
to never again waste anything.
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