By Vivi Sojorhn

When I see myself in the mirror…straight forward to my eyes and big smiles, I do see the crinkles around my eyes well enough. But talking with other women, we agree that it is the photograph from any direction that tells us what we really look like. It becomes increasingly horrifying with young people’s comments on photos from the past. They say, “You were so pretty!” thinking it is a complement as our outsides flow away from now like a Salvador Dali surreal and live show. Invisible begins to sound good. How much longer do I have to stay with these kind of changes? I am vain! I think about my insides much more now. Revealing myself in words, in gardens and paintings. The rough road shows up a lot — as half the garden dehydrates, a painting unfinished stares back at me while I cook dinner, I change a single word over and over. There I am — a piece of work in progress. Mirrors don’t  work. They lie their lies.

Photos forbidden

To swipe away my soul now

Will not be finished