Ritual
My end of the day ritual
I look into the mirror
I see my self
I observe

My hands grasps a cotton ball
More flat disk than ball
I pour a fluid onto the cotton disk
Oil-watery liquid that never mixes well
Damp disk in hand, I look into the mirror
I see myself
I observe

I watch my hand guide the cotton
Tracing the contours my face
My skin touched by this strange substance
I see my self
I observe

Ritual
My end of the day ritual
To clean, to remove, to take away the day
I see my self
I observe

Some days are along
Some days are too short
Some days are sad
And some are filled with joy
I see myself
I observe

The cotton colored whiteness is lost
Make-up color appear
Commercial skin colors adhere to the cotton pad
I see my self
I observe

Artificial skin colors now take on different shades
Darker shades
Becoming muddier

Shades of pastels become the color of dirt
I see myself
I observe

The cotton speaks
No, that is not all that you see
Look look carefully, look closer
I see myself
I observe

The cotton collects my wake up
The cotton my dead cells
The cotton collects