found you on the bdfm stairwell hanging not far from a friend
very whole very forgotten picked you up
never gave you to anyone brought you home dropped you in a glass of water
with a toothbrush that tasted like hands there were bubbles
but the number of bubbles declined quickly as you
rotted you had been smooth and round but you were now
wrinkled you had been red now brown and speckled like a faun
thought to throw you in the trash with blood and snot and paper
brought you instead to the window where you lie doomed in a cold sun
will drop your shrunken petals ten five one down the fire escape
and you will be in a place in a shape you never were before
