Mirror, mirror…

 

“Mirror is my best friend, because when I cry, it never laughs.”  – Sir Charles Chaplin 

“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.”               – Camille Pissarro

“If only our eyes saw souls instead of bodies how very different our ideals of beauty would be.”                   – author unknown

“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.”
-Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

                 *

Mirror, Mirror

I embark on a journey

To find out just who is this person

Buried inside my eyelids

The one who lurks in front of the bathroom mirror

As I blow-dry my hair each morning

She mimics my movements

While I brush my teeth and short reddish hair

Thank you Clariol

Or is she mocking me?

We share a wardrobe

It is debatable whom the clothes fit better

I prefer to think the mirror is the one

Telling the tall tales

A mirror should never be believed

If it were kinder

Perhaps I wouldn’t avoid its glare

*

Bisous,

Léa

cheveux

“Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.”

– Kahlil Gibran

” I’m not offended by all the dumb-blonde jokes because I know that I’m not dumb. I also know I’m not a blonde.”

– Dolly Parton

“Long hair is considered bohemian, which may be why I grew it, but I keep it long because I love the way it feels, part cloak, part fan, part mane, part security blanket.”

– Marge Piercy

 

cheveux

first appears as down
changing on her own
to anemic gold
braided, ponytail,
teased, bleached,
coiffed
losing her virginité
to clairol
at thirteen – noir
anything was better
than blonde
in those days anyway
teased, sprayed, curled
which never lasted
permanents: a study in frizz
pulled, yanked,
the rope he drug her by
cut over and over
not always by choice
re-cast as RED (more than once)
post divorce
a middle age frosting
decked out for sons wedding
she appears grey
as it grows out
the greys are few
you must look close
thin, fair, straight
shiny
fringed to the lash
imprisoned
by a clip
for her crimes

bisous,

léa