bathroom floors – a poem

Photo by Kaitlyn Jade on Pexels.com
a distinct odor,
a peculiar paint,

a reflection in the mirror
that stares

the crisscross of tiles
and flicker of lights

a crumbled tissue ball
with lipstick stains

a broken clip
with tangled strings of hair

a running tap,
wash your hands,
dry them out

run your fingers
through your mane,
tie your hair

burry your face,
fold the legs,
and wait.

it's nearly five minutes,
go five more.

another flush,
another try,

another pregnancy test stick
with a positive sign.

***

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