Edition 40 | 2021
In the Bathroom at 3am Words A.G. Travers Artwork Nikki Sztolc
Standing in the bathroom at 3am tipsy on caviar and white wine
Puking in the bathroom at 3am tongue coated in bile and slime
I reach out to slide my arms around you and you pull me tight against your chest
I reach out for the toilet bowl chest heaving and beginning to congest
I feel you press your soft mouth onto mine your teeth graze before our tongues clash
I fall back against the tile and porcelain discarded like somebody’s trash
You slip your arms around my waist and lift me onto the fireclay sink
I find my feet alone in the dark mascara lining my cheeks like ink
I tug at your sweater, your shirt, and your belt and you unzip the back of my dress
I peel off my T and drop it on the floor and wonder how I got into this mess
You slide your hands up my bare thighs and open them so you can inch nearer
I remember the first time you said you loved me standing in front of this mirror
There is a moan and then a sigh and I see your knuckles flash white
I can’t look at myself anymore I can’t stand the weight of this plight
I feel you press deeper and harder and pry I know I don’t want this to end
But as I leave the bathroom, I hear you: “Lover, let’s just be friends.”
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