I’m staring down the mirror
and neither of us
is blinking
“I see through you”
I think
I continue staring
half-hoping I’ll find
someone else
without the mundane imperfection
of moles and pores
stray gray hair
and engraved wrinkles
that stay long after the
laughter has died
and what of this mouth
keeper of secrets and teller of lies
and those sad date eyes?
suddenly I want to do away with him
and my rhinoceros nostrils flare
as I clench my jaw
and we begin the contest
to prove
who can hold his breath
the longest
his face becomes red
but I push myself past slight fear
into gentle internal hysteria
my suffocation from within
is taking its toll on my competitor
as his body starts quivering
and his face becomes an
unpleasant crimson
I push myself more
more
and one more second
just one more
as I see him
clutch the bathroom basin
I hear the voice
“don’t give up,
one more second!
Don’t let him win!”
just one more…
Then
PFFFHHWWT!
out blasts
a mouthful of stale air
as my knees buckle
and my face changes
red to pink to brown
and I giggle helplessly
at my lightheadedness
leaning forward
face to face with the mirror
still panting and laughing
I offer my vanquished foe
the only consolation
I can think of:
“Happy Birthday, Schmucko.”