“When One Razor Disappears, Another Appears" by Marissa Glover

When One Razor Disappears, Another Appears

It started in winter, wanting to use the pressure washer
in the shower to clean stubborn grime from tile grout

before the weather got too cold for water tools,
even indoors. To prepare, we removed all the soaps

and bottles and rags. After, we forgot to put the razor
back on the window sill. How long until I’m no longer

what I was, until the hair grows noticeable, unacceptable?
It’s sweater season now so when I raise my hand

on Zoom, I think I’m safe. Nobody knows. But
the change is already palpable: I’ve started speaking

up in meetings, louder so they can hear me. I say no.
Look at me, talking back. Wild, like some kind of animal.

Marissa glover

Marissa Glover teaches and writes in Florida, where she is co-editor of Orange Blossom Review and a senior editor at The Lascaux Review. Marissa’s work appears in Rust + Moth, SWWIM Every Day, Okay Donkey, and Whale Road Review, among other journals. Her full-length poetry collection, LET GO OF THE HANDS YOU HOLD, is forthcoming from Mercer University Press in April 2021. Follow Marissa on Twitter @_MarissaGlover_ .

Headshot: Benjamin Watters; photo editing by Stephanie Reed Photography

Photo Credit: Staff