The Changes

by Sandy Anderson

When looking into the mirror
Her body took on some tangible form,
But the echoing form
Had some strange look about it,
Took on a rather half-smile
That seemed to know something
She didn't.

The ride in the car was long.
Being in the back seat alone
Was appropriate to her new vows:
She slipped gears like an automobile,
A new kind of chastity of the mind
Already forming itself in her gestures.

The chair she rocked in
Knew how to creak and whimper,
But she was learning how to make it silent,
Enforcing the mirror's image as if
It had existed all along.

–

from Jeanne Was Once
a Player of Pianos