The ritual is the same
before I leave;
I shave the grey facial stubble that grew
within the 24 hours of my last shaving
I trim and dye the still black edges of the goatee and the
moustache
to maintain the look of a
man in his late thirties or early forties
looking for women in that age group
because I’m not ready to look fifty-1.
I scrub I loofah I wash I moisturize my face
brush and whiten my teeth.
I leave home and I face the world with a smile on my face,
thinking
this might be the day.
I leave home and I face the world with a smile on my face,
thinking
this might be the day.
I practice talking to and smiling at strangers and people I know
throughout the day
and the ritual is the same
when I return.
today wasn't the day.
today wasn't the day.
I go to bed and wake up in the morning and start over.
maybe tomorrow's the day.
maybe tomorrow's the day.
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