Cardio
By Parras Dumlao
I stand in front of the mirror;
The sound of water rushing
And steam fogging in
From the other room.
In a way, I look like I’ve already showered:
Sweat runs across
My acne scarred face
And my hair weighs heavy
With the dripping of salt.
My hand, without direction,
Grabs my stomach fat and pulls—
I hope it comes off,
Like brisket sloughing from bone,
And a hole is left. It would be release
To reach in that hole
And find where I
Dissociate to, so I can see
Me for the first time
Unherded and unhated by flesh.
The Trinity Review 