OT TH HE ER RS S O
two weeks ago i woke up and was convinced i saw you in the bathroom mirror, hands fleeting & hair wild
&
happiness
startling.
a
strange
color
was
gleaming in your eyes, a wild blue like pebbles cast into a careless imprint left behind by the storm that cried outside the still-open bathroom window. wild blue like you were sorry enough for disappearing that
you
unearthed
from
yourself
the
ability
to
return. i just stared at the mirror with some foreign feeling like shock, or disbelief, or denial. i thought that you had convinced me to give up.
it's been so long since i've seen you, i said to the mirror, as i reached for the glass, trying to chase away that space between our bodies until i forgot we were still supposed to be swallowed in this strange social distance—six feet apart. my fingertips jerked back
and
mirror
my
to
the
eyes
darted
bath
rug
away,
instead,
down its
from
blue
the
plush
reminding me of your wild blue eyes again. and just like
that,
i
was
back
to
looking
at
the
mirror.
thinking about how i'd hoped to hear from you again sometime, even when this all ends- especially when this all ends.
this morning i wake up and stare into the same blank mirror
and
realize
that
there
must
be
an
entire
avenue between me and you, a road hammered with holes here but thick with knotted overgrowth there. are you there? i want to ask, because some days i swear i hear you laughing in the kitchen as i learn to cook the fourth new dish of the week and other days i
am
left
reaching
into
the
space
and
time
of
weekends that bend and blend into weekdays and still, i cannot find you.
