I appear out of nowhere.
the mirror
agrees.
the water in the basin holding
my image
says so too.
life is full of close shaves,
I think
as I dab a heavy cloud of cream
upon
my face.
with the ball of my fist I circle
out the steam
so that I can see myself.
I take the razor and go down
one side then the other, under,
and below,
over, until smooth.
I splash water upon me
and feel for the grit of whiskers,
but there are none
to be found.
a close shave indeed.
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