Firsts

By Penelope G

Before running to see you, I

Frowned at myself in the mirror

Tried smiling

Frowned again.

I mussed my hair to life with my hands And grabbed my brush from the drawer Raking it through imaginary knots.

I pasted deodorant into both of my armpits

Would you like the smell, I wondered, of cool cucumbers and coconuts? I rubbed that new body lotion onto my wrists-

Decided I hated it-

Rushed to scrub it off,

To spread deodorant there instead.

I pinched my cheeks for color

And waged war on my gums

Scrubbing my tongue hard with scratchy bristles

Wincing as the sharp bite of the air met my minty breath.

Picked up my laptop and considered

Sending an apology text for taking so long

(Three minutes.)

I stuffed my feet into tight shoes

Shifting my jacket over sloped shoulders.

I looked in the mirror a final time

Tried smiling

Frowned again.

After running to see you, I

Stared blankly at myself in the mirror

Took my pink pair of tweezers and

Plucked all the imperfections right off my face Gone, these unsure lips, this wavering chin So long, too-narrow bridge of my nose

The miles between my hairline and eyebrows. But that took too long

And it really wasn’t possible, so

I laid on my bed in my stuffy jacket

And felt the heaviness of my downturned lips Crease the youth of my skin,

Deepen the lines in my face.

When I woke up later that night

And glanced in the bathroom mirror

I did not try smiling.