Cinematic Moment: Intimate.
There comes a day in every life
When we grow too familiar with ourselves
Over acquainted with the backs of our own hands
or the right leg that stretches just a bit further than the left.
The preoccupation with ones mind trickles down into the mundane
A slow crawl into the affliction known as routine.
Wandering slightly out of the wonder of self discovery
like falling out of love
with someone whose knowledge of foreign government was once intriguing and now dull.
There are days I'd like to rearrange the face in the mirror
mixing and matching the parts until they form something brand new
Something fresh and beautiful
I would remaster the art of painting a new pair of lips with matte red and pink gloss.
Memorize all over again the lengths of borrowed lashes
the eyebrow where my nose once sat upon my face.
Indeed I would.
the mannerisms are not quite as memorable
The jokes are not nearly as funny
when it's actually just me.