The reflection contains so many flaws
She imagines herself differently; She has flawless skin, manageable hair, and nothing has to be plucked.
Her instruments cover the sink,
objects bought, others handed down.
Her own hands
cause the most damage.
She goes through the motions of covering,
taking her time
to make sure
her imagination is perfectly painted,
and her real image is executed.
A knock at the door,
“Are you almost ready love?
We have reservations at 8pm.”
Another time, another day,
“Come on, I need to get ready too.”
And another,
“Will I get to spend time with you before we go to bed?”
The door stays shut
until the process is done.
The mask is unscarred,
unveiled.
In the/ (a girl’s) world
so much happens
behind her, his, or a
bathroom door.
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