Ma nin theM irror

Haunting blue eyes, absent mind staring

at the face in the mirror – staring back.

Furry brows resting above the eyes,

sharp-pointed nose, passed down by the one-night stand.

Cheeks, boney – forehead furrowed and wrinkled

too much for my age.

Long blonde wirehair,

teeth, chipped; lips, covered by hair – the problem.

Mouth, hungry; skin, leathered from overexposed sunlight.

 

I pause with the razor, hovering over my mouth.

the moustached man needs my attention.

But why? I ask him.

‘Food to feed the mouth,

cream to protect the skin,

cap to fill the tooth,’

The face in the mirror replies calm but stern.

‘But first your job interview.’

 

DWTSmith #poetrymonth

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