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at least we don't have his/her towels

by Lauren Singer

i saw that you cleaned the bathroom,
put mats down on the floor and cleared away the empty bottles,
rid the drains of hair and lint
and folded up the towels,
hung them on their hooks and such.
you even put a little table in there,
underneath the mirror, decorated it with soaps
and creams. eau de toilette.

your ex girlfriend stopped by to drop off some of your old things,
you invited her in for a drink.
we all sat round each other at the table,
her legs crossed securely,
her arms over her lap, tight-wound and vulnerable.
every so often she'd sip from her glass
or gingerly pet the cat. she was dark and pretty.
she surveyed me as a woman does,
eying the the girl who now fucks the man
you used to make love to.

in a sickly unfashionable way,
i wanted her approval. i wanted her to like me.
but i kept quiet mostly, looked down to the floor
when he'd refer to things as "ours" in front of her,
knowing that the "us" and "we" that she was used to was no longer.
but maybe she was fine with that.

before she left, she used our bathroom.
she came out moments later,
"it's a nice place you have here," she said.
"i especially like what you've done with the bathroom,
ours was always such a piece of shit.


Posted on 02/14/2008
Copyright © 2023 Lauren Singer

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Nanette Bellman on 02/15/08 at 04:49 AM

I live for last lines that are like paper-cuts. They make life worth living. Bravo.

Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 02/18/08 at 10:48 PM

classic. the title is probably my favorite of all of your pieces so far. kinda says it all. ;] good singing singer.

Posted by Frank Lee on 03/02/08 at 10:50 PM

ha..this ending is gold.

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