going through my bathroom stuff while brushing our teeth
sounds instead of words have become a normal
in two days
as with traveling
normals come and go easily
tube of toothpaste that looks like self tan
tube of makeup now smudged over arms
like palettes
we share skin
and brushing goes slowly
hard to do too many things at once
spitting to the reflection of each others
company in the mirror
remains of breakfast in the sink
nothing beats the color of blueberries in the toothpaste
almost like watching your own urine after a beetroot feast
shades ive forgotten i owned
how to use
box fresh scents
i never found the occasion for
my life turned out differently
and now im exposing it to you
the smelling of tops
one bottle after another
watching your nose in my mirror
moving across landscapes of scent
if you find anything you like
have it
living by myself now
means new perfumes
without the heart
to throw out the old ones
i like the idea of passing on a bottle
like sharing a bottle at a party
memories
preserved in alcohol
