Have they never cleaned it? How many years am I cutting through with my Nonna’s mixture of white vinegar and hot tap water? Why can't this bathroom be like the moon? Why must it pulse like a jungle. Thick. As I get older, I see how family always saves me.
I wipe and wonder if they will notice when they get home. Girls are disgusting. Spores.
I smooth around the sink, and even that little space behind the faucet.
Beside each of their toothbrushes sits a container of floss.
How can people interested in flossing not care about their toilet?
We floss for health, but also for presentation. The neatness of our teeth for other people. Perhaps that is also healthy.
What about when guests sit down, and really look at the rings around all the taps? Dates?
(I’m an adaptable person. I think I’m an adaptable person.)
(Is that black mold?)
Cleaning this toilet is a meditation. I read that on the internet (the real moon).
This is the kind of pond that is deeper than reflection. Except for that squeak.
I came here to work.