my man can pull
my plug
all the ***** water
running out

still debris
sticking to the side
like fallen leaves
making a ring

round the whole thing
big as Aunt Bessie’s hide
if he can sift the dirt
from the water

it'd still turn cold
as Aunt Bertha's nose
as she's kissing me
smearing it in my cheek

leaving lipstick streaks
like zebra stripes
only they’re red
like someone bled
out into the night