In the friend's unfamiliar bathroom

In the friend's unfamiliar bathroom,

a duck of pale plastic,

plugged low to the wall.

Its soft, dull orange

a stain on the dark.

Not a beam, not a flood,

just a constant small sigh

of light, at the edge

of the linoleum tile.

Just enough not to trip,

just enough to define

the strange new geometry

of the unfamiliar night.

It makes the shadows soft,

not sharp teeth.

A small, steady presence,

for a fear I didn't know I still kept.