Diesel Love Stories

20 years of tales, triumphs, tidbits and tragedy, as shared by you.

An Ode to the Diesel Bathrooms

Your door, always ajar

Beckoning me into your fluorescent fold

Mirror reflecting the purple hue of an obsidian space 

I take out my phone, snap a picture, capturing a moment

When my bone structure looks great, but also I felt held 

You’ve been there in times of need

When my stomach and I disagreed after eating cheese for the first time in years

When I was dumped under the schematic of a diesel engine 

You always provided a selection of Select bathroom tissue 

To dry my tears

And to wipe soap off the sink from the person before me

You’ve been there in times of anxiety 

When Honk just honked one honk too many 

When the imminent judgement of a stranger awaited me on Elm 

With the lock of that sticker covered door 

Was a sanctuary, free of scrutiny, bereft of sound 

Rich with the scent of others before me

I lean against the metal pipe fence

Others agitated, but I am calmed by the knowledge

That the wait for you is always worth it 

You can knock all you want, stranger,

I’m going to be in here for a minute

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