Shower

by Isabel Dorn

and for you, I shall wake and wash myself
with the guest-bathroom soap your husband chose
and let the water erase every betrayal
of feeling from my foolish face.
I shall dry myself before daybreak
so no droplet will dampen the carpet
of this blessed home that can never be my own.
you will never see the shimmer of first dawn kiss my skin.
you will never see me dream of you.
I shall paint my face in stoic shades of beige.
I shall sheath myself in nonchalant gray,
every layer firmly buttoned and buckled to conceal my form
shapeshifting until I am brain without body,
benign enough for your praise.

and I am far too old for yearning
but I watch you cooking breakfast in your lovely home
and I, a learned woman, know not how to sate my hunger.

Isabel Dorn (she/her) is a graduate student who uses poetry to examine the complexities of intersectionality and coming of age in the 21st century. As a Vietnamese American woman, she sees writing as a powerful tool for social justice and strives to create more visibility for underrepresented groups with her work.