I don’t know how we sardined ourselves
Into my bathroom on so many occasion
With all the white tile trapping us, stark sterility,
Sink then pot
Trapped into each other
Closed door and candle light,
A shower of lust sized for two,
Hushed monotones and mirrors,
Those hazy eyed reflections of cleanliness.
___
Morgan Louis Graham has had sporadic works published since age 10. He is an observer among the many in New York City and gets by on trips to the museum and listening to NPR. Originally from Kansas, he gets his grit from being an outcast to a universe which he’s always belonged.
