egg

café was egg. rooms burst
in sight when asked for toilet
not bathroom. puppy spins
in middle of road, clearly lost
a long time. the ladies’.
mirrors on wall like space
completely different. she found
egg among expensive, pretty
homes. woman doing bio
chem; higgledy piggledy
lounge. tiny tomatoes swell
tight, matching bacon, button
mushrooms. tea: hot, sweet, traditional.
entire space a kind of accidental
art. black incomplete maps behind
cha’s hand. path creates breakups – let’s walk
backwards. worried about condoms. bridget
jones’s diary. and then to her shock
did a shit suddenly, in the middle. could
have broken? cappuccino frothed
in eggshaped cups. thought u knew
y