Marred with a tooth rimmed desire, an oil skimmed glass upon

the back of my calves – my muscles - tendons, a graze of memory –  are my decision

to complete the arrogance; shave away the bristle grin mistake of not being a man. 

 

My bathroom is a place to delude;

  elixirs of sanctimony, perfumed puddles of Lethe,

allusions of birth, and a sponge that leaks pithy girlish tears.

 

From a ripe place,

                                                                                                                                     a nonsense draws near –

                                                                                                                                     an attitude of venetian sleep - rolling  glimpses

of summer -

calligraphy impressed, gold upon my ceiling.   In here -

 

a yawn with youth on its side - adolescence drools,

and I return to this calming tide – my universe climaxed on the cool

                                                                                                                                     of tiles and taps,                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                             reflecting me –

 

where soap permits

 

and rinse away a scar,

every day  - a beat of  insecurity -

 

                                                                                                                                     a harm.