deepundergroundpoetry.com
Self Reflection
Foggy mirrors
In a misty room
Clothed in lemon and rose
Blanketed in heat, as I stand
With a blurred image
I don’t care to see
The mess of me
Scrubbing skin
Dampening my hair
Though I am clean
There is a scum
No sponge has removed
Even coated in perfume
I smell it
An aftertaste, unrideable
Wiping the condensation from the glass
I catch a glimpse of my figure
Still glazed in droplets
Drenched blonde and porcelain
I saw, focusing in
Turning for my towel, until
I lost her
The glass had fogged again
In a misty room
Clothed in lemon and rose
Blanketed in heat, as I stand
With a blurred image
I don’t care to see
The mess of me
Scrubbing skin
Dampening my hair
Though I am clean
There is a scum
No sponge has removed
Even coated in perfume
I smell it
An aftertaste, unrideable
Wiping the condensation from the glass
I catch a glimpse of my figure
Still glazed in droplets
Drenched blonde and porcelain
I saw, focusing in
Turning for my towel, until
I lost her
The glass had fogged again
Published 13th Apr 2021
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The author encourages honest critique.
13th Apr 2021 4:33am
Dear TTF,
There was an urgency in this poem to me that was spectacular. The visual in the mist from the shower and the rivulets of vision in the mirror before getting lost again from the fog- the slightest of glimpses to who we really are evaporated in a second. This is such an awesome poem. So very relatable in subject. H🌷
There was an urgency in this poem to me that was spectacular. The visual in the mist from the shower and the rivulets of vision in the mirror before getting lost again from the fog- the slightest of glimpses to who we really are evaporated in a second. This is such an awesome poem. So very relatable in subject. H🌷
