head dialogue, ghost-written on a bathroom stall

it is installing. i am in (stalling)
written on the stall
 
it came while squinting at the audible flickering of fluorescence
it came while counting the cracks in the tile
then following the branched dissections
seeing them as maps of where to go
but
forgetting
how
 
it came after hearing her spank her child in the stall next to mine and how it triggered that memory of when you told me the first time you could recollect your fetish for feet–-when he spanked you for speaking during mass, right there, bent over a statue with nothing to look at but the virgin’s feet. white. smooth. delicate and detailed. the purest rock. HARD. at the exact moment of pain you recognized pleasure. and now every time i see you looking down i think to myself, ‘but my face is right here.’
 
it came while twirling my hair as the inner made outer trickle met with water. i hate when it rains and my hair springs these curls. i feel like a poodle. except i don’t lift my leg…
 
in head, it read something like this:
 
One: mathemantics- as a title (?)
 
Two: the undernote: semen, math, and antics
 
Three: OR seamen- i haven’t decided
 
see man tic
 
semantics
 
Four: i have been sketching some thoughts….
 
Five: an illogical arrangement ad infinitum de steorra
 
Six: enter sex. of COURSE
 
Seven: will it really not have an end?
 
Eight: lay down straight
 
Nine: let’s just pretend all is fine
 
Ten: and again
 
counting is beginning. counting is ending.
 
install
in
stall
i flush
in the mirror, flushed
i wash my hands
and walk away