Saturday, January 26, 2013

He Had A Way With The Girls



He stared in the mirror
Seeing the mundane 
And repetitive 
The tired
As he lifted a razor
To shave a scarred
Age worn face
Of it’s daily peppered growth.

He dipped the blade 
In the hot running water
And brought it up to the 
Lathered Aloe Barbisol.

He caught a glimpse of her
In the foggy mirror.

She was in the tub behind him
Shaving her legs.

She was fifteen years younger 
Than he.

He stopped and watched for a moment.

There was nothing
Mundane about that.

She didn’t know that he was studying her

Like a noteworthy oiled treasure
Holding space
On a south facing wall 
In a celebrated museum

He found solace in her movement
The perfumed water
Ebbing from her flesh.

He dipped his blade back under the scalding water
And drew crimson red instantly.




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