(T)his Dirty Sink
I will
Shave my beard
Yes still bits of spit(tl)e and
morning’s drool
But worse,
It’sstuck with
words ha/lf mummmbled
Too afraid to of said out loud, with
Bits of leftover kiss e s
And s/ex/y sweat
Styled from us waking us up
It’s as long as we, were
Its end(s) blanket the roots
It curls back on itself
Forest gro in reverse
For getting rings–Timber
Is bellowed from huffing lungs
Metallic fe lling
Scores of tiny
Vibrating axes
Of sharp (good)byes
Now,
Whom?
In front of
(T)his dirty sink
Of course stubble
Of course stubborn
wet hands & a
blood speckled face off