Narcissus, Lately

Hannah Nickelson

The mirror waits for me to show my face Because I’m beautiful And it loves me. It likes to pretend it’s me, Moves the image of my hands around, Positions the muscles in my face, Does a silly dance. Sometimes it scowls, because it knows That it’s not me, cannot truly be me, And sometimes it cries For the same reason. At other times, it laughs, because for a brief moment It can hide in my image, delight in my face. Most often, though, it smiles A knowing, sultry smile Gives a smirk, a wink, Because it knows that I know it’s flirting With me.