bathroom thoughts – a poem

bathroom thoughts


break from reality

in time and space

made company by the sound of rushing water

day old coffee beans

and the whir of the fan above me.

This could be anywhere, yet it is


The wastebasket is overflowing

and my hands feel like chalk

even though I washed them

only an hour ago.

As I rinse them once more,

the small paper cut stings

and I suddenly

remember, I may have just used

hand sanitizer.



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