You poked your tiny body
through the old faucet door,
and paused upon blue porcelin
on a marbled-tile floor.
I crunched a wrinkled body
toward the dampened smoke-stained wall,
to avoid confrontation from
a steam assisted fall
My movement made you scurry
for the painted, furled chip,
where seven-eights were covered
by it's soap-encrusted lip.
You plopped onto the rusted rim
of my faded blue enclosure,
and mocked me eye to eye
in our mutual exposure.
I hesitated briefly with
one eye upon the door,
then opted for the safety
of my feet upon the floor.
