Paul Gauguin Painting (La vie ET la mort)
After the daily morning shower I look at the mirror. I wash
away vapor with my bare hands. I pluck my thick eyebrows. I sneeze; I gargle
and glide my finger tips over my neck. I push them back at the corner of my
eyes and I slightly stretch outward the flesh. Do I look like Japanese now? I
just want to make those fine lines disappear and I promise I won’t complain. I
snatch my messy head and I find 3 white hairs. Grrrrrrrrrrr, no not now. I slap my cheeks to wake up; I smile and say “I love myself as I
am”.
In front of the closet, I stand while water drops off my
body. My skin spread soap aroma in the room that makes me blush. I stare at all
those displayed unworn dresses and unfitting skirts and I think how they never
give me consolation when I need them the most. On my left, I look to another
bigger mirror. I consult my naked figure. I breathe in my round tummy. I touch
my flappy sides and rub my cellulite. My curves do not intimidate me. I am sort
of pear sculpture like the 18th century nude paintings. I wrap
myself in the towel like a spring flower. I go drop my mass weight over the floor.
The carpet scratches against my feet and send ticklish waves that reaches my
ears. I look opposite to the window and understand the fact that I am not
timeless, am prone to wrinkles. My hair would turn grey, my teeth might fall
and my sight would fade. I draw a smile coz I know I would still love myself by
then...
