thirst

i am not clean
so much as i am wrung out
i am not dry
so much as i am barren
i am, red raw scuffed hands like
i've been bending over backwards
for weeks and weeks
for you, linoleum smeared
faint brown might-have-been-lipstick
at the corners of my mouth,
it is vile, i am not beautiful so much as
i am flat flat flat, and curves where i am not
tile, to be walked on.
and you, you are
away, or i am, i, here,
you in bed in bed in someone else..
i ache i frown i tumble
upside down
waterfalls
from parched lips (everyone knows)
it's the bathroom and
my reflection is churned.