by Shereen Asha Murugayah


I’m clearing dishes when I see it.
A communal mug, white and sturdy,
a dried teabag and a yellow pubic hair in it.
He is the only blond here.
I run the tap
then decide to throw it out instead.

We kissed once, a month ago,
he’s writing up his thesis in the library now.
I hope his examiners are kind and swift.

– – – – –

lipstickparty mag has also published Shereen’s poem “Floating”

Please follow and like us: