The bath reveals secrets
in its playlist
temperature
and sound.
It can soothe me
distract the duties
as I examine unclean walls
no motivation to change you
or my reasons
for leaving you as distant
as you truly are.

The poor men that hush
swoon
whistle
shout
I felt the tension
and ran upstairs
to my apartment
shut the door
so fast
my daughter saying
that was awkward Ma
I agreed.

They probably talked about
all the ways they’d like
to fuck me
but none of them
could look me in the eye
their eyes on every part of me
except my eyes.

No wonder I run
from whom I live with
and who wants my mindfuck.

And age means nothing
in the context
it never did.

And money is just an afterthought
because any restaurant will do
as long as I’m sitting across from you.

And cars are mere jewels
I can ride a bus.

And this Indie playlist
is fucking around with my head
as music tends to do.

And this calgon scrub
smells like vanilla
making my skin silky.

And floral is my scent.

The water is still warm.
My phone still in my hands.
The distant closer.

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