Mona Lisa is in the toilet
pretending not to look.
Her part-smile is
enough to turn the taps off.
It’s a small space in here,
elbows touching walls,
backs touching doors,
head touching ceiling.
She doesn’t deserve
to be here, all not real
and cramped in a box
avoiding the eyes of
a man unsure how
to think about nuance.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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