Dotage
Karim Lakhani
​​
I slouch against side
of shabby white bathtub
half-sunken in grey water,
soiled underwear knotted
around antique knees, thighs
being scrubbed by a girl
with a sponge.
Or perhaps
she's my wife,
 
though
I forget her name tonight,
pouring soapy water
over my scantily-haired head
with a blue plastic jug
as I yawn.
 
Towel threadbare
draped then
around dog-bone shoulders
as I am made to stand
and drip
beneath a flickering midday sun,
eying
in a shivering wall-mirror
no one there.