She faces the wall, studies
those tiles with minute precision, hand
outstretched on the towel rack, a bathroom
ballet dancer, poised, still, silently waiting
waiting, waiting.

Lids so heavy, slow now to blink,
suffocating breath with light caught,
suffocating speech with the skin
pulled taut.

Is it safe yet to face
that most sibilant refraction,
why do these fingers clench tighter
the more I try to let go.