Strident grunts echo
off compact walls of
the latrine, shortly
after devouring the stash
of goodies appropriately
placed in the medicine
cabinet.

Flush of relief,
as composure is swept
by light-headed swoon,
a coiling no different
from the waste in the drain,
or health undermined by
the day.

Lurid skin tone,
concealed by facial
powder,
and the contentment
of knowing beauty,
although a costly wager,
is one step closer.
It's just a few less pounds,
a tad more eyeliner,
a little less acne,
and only one more...
misconception.

2001 R. Charles
(All Rights Reserved)