by Michael Bettencourt

Created on: July 04, 2008

WOMAN AT THE MIRROR GETTING READY

Her various hands stroke hair and skin -
the carpet hooks the fish of her wet feet -
the jade-green towel thrown on the bed folds
like a jeweled twist of wave-water:
she is swimming up through her image,
through the thick kelp light of afternoon;
the mirror practices her body,
a bright chain of silver air ascending.
The blowdryer stops - the curling iron cools...
the brush wings once more through the hair...
make-up attended, lotions palmed...
done, she makes my breathable world
aerate with light and pattern moving
so that my blood is a bright rake of argent
sinuous through the counties of her hair,
the levees of her thighs.
Each day she does this
she reminds the amphibious world
to rise to itself like returned blood -
readying herself, she gives mirrors reason to be,
gives my eyes reason to be mirrors.

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