just to try and remember
i wanted to relive the time of The Bathroom Mirror
when it held my grandmothers reflection.
As a six year old, the thrill of any moment with her all made for a delightful life,
her love, filled moment to moment.
So the bathroom: we would stand there, ceiling fan buzzing
behind us the shower stall was flooded with fabric
piled up, cascading, spare ends ready to be used some day.
She showed me her proud routine: using seamstress hands (which shaped the fabric and food of my childhood)
she poured the minty alcohol into the cap,
lifted it to her mouth as carefully as she did for
the delicate wafer of Sunday.
Gurgle and spit. At the time, I mimicked, we laughed
Held a fresh inhale and let out a smile.
Now I don’t actually like to use listerine, or commercial products. health reasons mainly
GMOs, toxicity, marketed chemical products that some get sucked into in America
but this lonely hotel morning, I’ll break even my own covenant and suspend my mistrust.
I bought a small travel size listerine
to stand alone in the mirror and inhale in a different bathroom, a different reflection
to stand and carefully reenact the aftercare she taught:
for my teeth, my mouth, my voice.
I did it to feel that exhale, fixed in time
the only way I can successfully try, for a moment
to deny the fact that she is gone.