In the medicine cabinet,
I saw you pirouette.
But the dance passed
With every turn.
Yet still, tip-toed,
I reached for glass bottles
And turned them over
Again and again.
Then, I saw myself, glassy eyed,
In my mother's vanity,
And the dance went on--
The spin and sway.
For fear of drowning
And the flailing of hands,
I resolved to drink
The pool than sink.
Now, a strange perfume
Wafts down the anteroom.
It reeks of rose water and weed,
And I know it's you.
