Strange: three selves
all crowded into the bathroom at once
in the dark of the night, in the early new day.
One felt the cool tile beneath her feet, and a full bladder.
This one headed straight for the toilet.
But another self caught her eye…moving along with her
in the mirror, just slightly behind and beside her.
This one looked strange, grey striped pajamas,
Face faded and murky, an unreadable expression.
Avoidance? Fear? Hurry.
And just as she turned to sit, a third self
vanished from another mirror, quickly slipping out of sight.
Hiding they were. Lying in wait.
No longer visible but palpably present.
These selves were skillfully mimicking her.
Pretending to be her, they were nevertheless each slightly “off”:
Movements were milliseconds behind,
They hadn’t quite captured the curl of her hair behind the ear,
the tuft in the back.
Expressions too blank, eyes heavy-lidded, they looked nothing like her.
She flushed, and took a deep breath.
She knew they would pop up again on her way out, chasing her,
Whispering, mocking her hurry, What’s the hurry? Where you going?
She felt they craved her company, waited for her nightly visits.
They are always gone by morning.