The Bathroom Space 2023 I am in it. Am I drowning beneath it – or above it? They say I am resting. I see railway tracks. Rain keeps falling. Pouring. Is this supposed to be a cleansing? I walk toward the tracks - straight ahead. I have known this place since I hovered above the strawberry patch. Or rather, since my grandmother’s hands held me above the reddening signal lights. I ate them. They tasted good. Like a derailed body - body - mine. The derailed train does not trouble me. I am losing my hair - it falls downward. T u r n i n g around. I want an exit and black words on canvas. Is this the end? A full stop. Right now I’m climbing into the bathtub. I don’t want my skin to get wet, so I unzip it like a coat. It will hang on the hook. Is there a catch? Maybe, in the end, yours will be hanging there too ——.
