Staring into my mirror image yesterday disdained at what I saw 26 and two gray hairs and a wrinkle later i find myself armed with CVS duality - foundation and rinse attempting to waste time and money and salvage what little i felt i had left My bathroom becomes some chi-chi spa as i pamper myself like i haven't in so long manicure, pedicure . . . thinking i will catch me a real man if he only can't see my one wrinkle and 2 grey hairs oatmeal facial, sea body scrub . . . he will want to run his hands over my smooth body painted my lips in something called Perfect Passion covered my face in something some white woman told me would match MY complexion . . . as if I was the only sistah at Macy's that day rinsing the black dye through my hair you walked in on me in a state of shock "what i'm doing is fixing what's broken" you look at me quizically "nothing is broken except your mirror if you see greys and wrinkles" you stood behind me and we looked into the mirror together while I plucked hairs from my arching eyebrows "what do you see" he asked? "nothing, now that I covered those 2 grey hairs" "thats the problem, put those down, do you want to know why i stare? you have sex appeal, it can't be bought at the store you have intelligence, wisdom, and something to say when you open your mouth you have wide hips, a phat *** and large breasts your skin is smooth and flawless your lips large and wet your hands are always busy your heart is always warm your eyes are huge and show emotion your features are your own. As a tear slips down my face he again looks quizical "I was just telling myself I am broken and need to find a real man. But, it's your arms that always hold me your soft lips covering the top of my head your back strong enough to support me your eyes constantly dancing with laughter your words which make me think and your pride which i love. Staring into our mirror images i kiss you in perfect passion.