The Mirror In The Toilet
Some pieces are sharp
and some pieces
are very sharp. I’ve got
my hands in the toilet
and the water is freezing,
nearly frozen, and
there are bits of white
Andrex, little rolled bits,
amongst the sharp bits
of the broken mirror.
I’m picking out the bits,
piling them on the frame
of the mirror. I just
walked out of the bathroom,
shut the door,
and the mirror fell off,
smashed in the toilet.
The water is so cold
that I have to stop and dry
my hands on an old
blue towel. I check my hands
for blood or splinters,
hold them up to the light
and look at them, closely.
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