The Shut Down

The Shut Down

It was the profile

that shut me down,

the way the mirror

swings off its hinge

in the bathroom,

it caught me by surprise.

Spotting the clump of mascara

at the end of a lash,

like the old ladies

of Hollywood get.

So I ash my cigarette

and pull it from

the hair,

making it look

A bit more,

natural?

If not smeared.

And I could swear

I heard laughing

as I closed the cabinet door.

But it was only

the squeaking 

of the hinge.

I think.