The Wreck,
a spinning soap soaked
conditioner cap
rotates
around the shower drain.
bubbles and gray water
make a murky
whirlpool
of the day's desert grime.
steam seeps across the
opened door-
clouds
of 'flower essence' scent.
wet footprints shine guiltily
across the tile
leading
to the clumped wet towels
and the stairs littered with
laundry, haphazard
heaps of
our school uniformed day.
giggling, sweet smelling girls
annoy vainly in
the mirror-
seeing only privilege and abundance.
in their wake, I stealthily
remove the mess,
vacuuming
away the reminders of
The Wreck.
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