Jess Norris
I turn on the cold water, I want the ice to burn.
Anything to make me forget to look up,
anything to not be disappointed again.
Focus on the cold water.
Do not look up.
It burns.
I look.
The mirror is still there.
My reflection is still staring back at me.
It’s still my face. It’s still my body.
When did I turn the warm water on?
I stare into her eyes;
there are specks of gold in the green I never noticed before,
her hair has grown longer.
She looks happier than when we last met.
My hands are pruning.
She smiles back at me.
I turn off the water and take one last look at myself.
My reflection thinks I’m beautiful and I’m starting to also.