blowdryer

Tiptoeing on a stool
To cast my reflection
Onto the bathroom mirror with fingers half the size
Gripping a blowdryer meant for drying dripping heads
But I blow everything 
Except for my head

Hot air making the hair
On my neck stick straight out
My shirt rising like a jellyfish, slow motion
Floating, covered in bumps up and down my spinal ridge
They spread with shivering
As good feelings do

White noise droning, drowning
After shower hours
Into foggy clock hands and foggier mirrors filled
With cowlicks and damp feet I can’t see past misty
Imagery — but I still hear
The oscillating beat