you walk into bathrooms singing
singing
it’s sweet and soft
high in your register
not spoken
just floating on your breath like a dream

my voice teacher would say you need to support your tone
but I like it the way you do it
you do it the way a mother might sing a child to sleep
but you sing only for yourself
not to sleep or to perform
not making any fuss
just letting the wordless song be sung
by you
to you
for you
with no accompaniment but the sure click of your heels
against the bathroom tile

I spend a lot of time in bathrooms
(at least I used to and these days
I find myself returning more and more
to old habits)
the walls know me
the tiles are familiar
the locks protect me more than any living thing ever did

the sinks know my blood
the floors know my rage
the toilet knows that my insides are acid
and not sugary sweet like I once thought they were
(I respect it for not pretending
like others have tried)

I spend a lot of time in bathrooms
I want to thank you because
you make it easier
because you walk into bathrooms singing

you stop by the mirrors and
fix your makeup maybe
or adjust your jacket or swish your skirt
and I hope it’s not strange
but sometimes I watch you through the crack in my stall
(not so long that it’s creepy
just a beat that’s all)
and you always make me feel just a little bit better
because you’re so **** pretty
and so **** aware of it
your voice is sweet
you know it
and you’re not afraid

I love that
please keep singing
I don’t care if I’m there to listen
I just hope you sing