what she
was doing in the bathroom
for so long.
the water running,
the light on.
a hair dryer on full blow.
why was she whispering
into her phone.
i'd put my
ear to the door and try
to listen.
lying down on the floor
to see her bare
feet, her painted toenails,
as she sat on the toilet
commiserating with
someone i didn't know.
i both wanted
and didn't want to know
about
the secret life she
was leading.
it was exhausting living
with her,
before i made her go.
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