Like Learning a New Language
At ten, I know everything. On the top shelf,
round boxes with rope handles cradle
her feathered hats. Fur coats, soft and heavy,
in fawn, dark brown and russet, folded
tissues in their pockets, hang in a zippered
garment bag. Patent leather high heels,
some with bows or buckles, fill boxes
stacked on the closet floor. I examine
the girdle snaps, satin bottoms and lace
brassieres in her top drawer. Gardenia-
scented sachets. Silk stockings folded in a
fabric box. In the middle drawer, black, brown
and tan leather gloves, liquid soft, whiff of smoke.
The black ones reach all the way to my armpits.
In the bathroom, creams scented like almonds,
hair spray, cleansers, combs, picks, an electric
shaver with a ladybug design. Nail files,
clippers, clear polish, a pear shaped bottle
of perfume I wish I hadn’t spilled.
Cotton balls, mascara, a dozen shades
of beige foundation. I swirl my finger
in a pot of rouge and circle red
on each cheek. What fascinates me most,
that which I have no word for, is tucked
way back under the sink: a flat pink rubber
bag with a long hose. When later she
drapes it on the towel rack, I ask. Douche,
she says and I know not to ask again.
LINDA K. SIENKIEWICZ is a writer, poet and artist. Her debut novel, In the Context of Love, was a finalist for the Hoffer and Sarton Awards. A Pushcart Prize-nominated poet with a chapbook award, four other chapbooks and a children’s picture book, she holds an MFA from the University of Southern Maine and volunteers at the Neighborhood House in Michigan. Her second novel is Love and Other Incurable Ailments, from Regal House Publishing.
