your nose
is an ice cube
i listen for the echo
the squeal of water and rubber
on a locker room floor
metal clang sings loud
that you are steel and leaving
with a cheek so close
to a shower drain
i wait
wet in creases of skin
pressing flesh on stone
come and get my playful
and the air like needles
feels me up while slime grows
in visions of jesus dripping
down the molding tile
i am tied to the window
it's figurative i know
but i am incapable of moving
the shriek and slam of the oak door
you shouldn't love me anymore