Bathtub

your ornate bathtub lips
spill secrets over your edges
like bubbled water
the second you let anyone
dip into you.

i was full of soaking secrets,
and i whispered them when your
slender fingers skimmed my surface.

you plunged beneath the waters
and pulled the plug on my drain
and you watched
as my words swirled away.

now you accuse me of being
a bathtub
as though you had ever made me
anything more.

—you said we were a bathtub: drained.

By Katherine Fletcher

Biography:

Katherine Fletcher is a sophomore at Syracuse University. Her work has appeared in the campus magazines Jerk and Perception as well as the online magazines Persephone’s Daughters and Rising Phoenix Review. She is in love with the stars and filled with longing.