or, off-white
beige even, at the edges
we couldn’t clean
chipped porcelain tub
toilet that never flushed
where we hid
when Ullu was in a bad way
when we heard him slam
his feet up the stairs
his fists at the door
separating us
girls, elbowing each other
for a shot at safety
to be the one who coup’d
the bathroom, pretending
to shit or piss or wash skin
& drowned his bark, his bite
with water
the others
left to his snarl
& one of us, president
behind the only lock
the one who trumped
with our silence
with our human need