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Balachandran V
My bathroom is a secure place
With a little window to the world.
A two-way window, to look out
And to look within.
Water runs, chuckling,
Washing away dirt; sins too.
The resident spider sprints
With a cockroach in its mouth.
A gecko peers, scrambling
As I sprinkle a little water at him.
A stage
To enact my fantasies
To practice a speech
To sing a song
To talk to my love
Or imagine making love.
He moved swiftly, through the little gap
Between the door ajar and the wall
Hiding then, behind the desk, presumably
Catching his breath - but soon as I pulled the desk back
Like lightning, he took cover behind the pile of papers.
I grinned at him, he was young and little, a juvenile, and said -
'Gotcha, my boy' and with a quick brush of the broom
Escorted him out into the glaring sun.
That was yesterday, that was when I felt I could not stand
This suffocating sensation, the revulsion of solitude,
Yet shunning company, sans I am, of love and friendship.
Now, defeated, depressed and disconsolate, I welcomed him
As he skulked in a corner, nodding, licking his chops clean