Spa Class

Spa Class

''Mirror, mirror on the wall

who is the most stressed of all?''

First skin step is to cleanse:

wipe off the daily grime

stroking upwards, choking,

cotton wool pads absorbing my make-up mask,

skin shining, light-bulb luminous.

The surface reveals

what the heart usually feels

a face that's weathered many storms:

furrowed brow, 

farmers tracks ploughed

between bushy eyebrows,

yellowing white in corners of eyes resting on

purple, puffy pillows,

freckles, moles, faint moustache grows.

Second skin step is to tone:

using the cool refreshing fluid

dare I go deeper

take another layer off myself?

Analyse, memorise.

I see the time I punched a bully in the chin

and shook.

The first boy I tongue kissed under a coat,

grief-stricken tears when Grandma died.

I hear you and me begin to be,

laughing, talking, walking free.

Time together, time apart

yearning, learning, relationship art.

I feel the contraction that came so quick,

half searching down the toilet

feeling sick,

as I tremblingly flushed our baby away

while you both slept, I wept

alone and wept.

Then forced myself to phone NHS Direct.

Third skin step to use a mask:

feel it tighten, maybe crack

as it covers little fissures, bumps and hollows

like a hippo I wallow,

can't eat, can't speak, can just about breathe.

Step four to nourish and moisturise:

relax and shut my eyes.

What lies ahead I do not know

the map is written

I just follow.

Calming cream fills my open pores

as time heals many wounds and sores.

Skin will get thinner with age, I'm told,

my map gets bigger as life unfolds.

''You, my princess are most precious of all

no need to worry, I'm here when you fall.

You are not perfect, 

I don't think that you should

use mirrors to check that you are good,

understood?''

Originally written in 2009, reworked in 2015