water is dripping, in the bathtub
heavy body, cold.
tiles miming insanity.
all those lines drip, drip
together into the mind,
and weave little pathways
not able to find -
a way back out.
i draw one on my stomach and
reach inside.
bleach and mold,
handfuls of skeletal bones
curled up with their lovers.
frozen walkways, arrows -
bent metal signs, the streets are
satin and black, residue on the finger
leaves behind. the further it takes
me circular on the tiles
i coil