the shave

you shave your face
slowly in the tub
without a mirror.
the radio is on
the shelf, playing
oldies from
the sixties.
incense peppermint.
you know all the words.
you take
long easy strokes
of the razor,
swiping into the white
foam, warm
and wet.
you know where every
thing is.
you slide your fingers
along your skin
in search of uncut
bristles. under
your nose, around
the ears, your neck,
chin.
it doesn't take long.
you don't need
a mirror anymore,
you know where
everything is.