Untitled 2

August 19, 2011
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She tells me I would look beautiful
But I thought I already was
She points to my face
Cut here, tuck there
She smiles through a mask
As she caresses my
Smooth skin “Someday,” she tells me
“Someday you won’t look so young and pretty.”
I gaze into the mirror
Solemn blue eyes stare back
At me I look into her face
Perfectly symmetrical
Every sign of age erased
And wonder how much of the real her Is truly there
And how much of me will be left
When she finishes her work
I open my mouth
Wanting to say no to her false persona
But instead a quiet yes
Echoes from my traitorous throat
She smiles again
And tells me to lean back
Close your eyes
And breathe in
I’m gone
Before I have a chance to change my mind
Something bitter beneath the sweet aroma of strawberries

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