poems

Bathroom

Bathroom

07/06/2017

Steam from the bathroom billows beneath the doorway.

Smell of incense mixed with some soaped concoction.

She’s brushed up on her leg’s ability in preperation for tonights nobility.

I’ll watch her leave.

My favourite addiction.

She left the varnish out again.

Red and some pot of something cream.

It matched her dress.

Last week it was green.

I remember the black tights, patchwork mesh riding to the height’s of her theighs.

I couldn’t divert my eyes.

Tonight more regal and clear cut.

More Marilyn Monroe than horny slut.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

 

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