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let us call it a routine,
she hits the play button

           then a spray of warmth washed over her

morning shower
humming to tunes of A-Ha
reminiscing the last minute details

carefully choosing my outfit

                                             or letting her choose

blue striped socks worn out with wrinkled edges
battered gray tennis shoes
three stripes at its side



as if a golden shower

the ponytail has to be high

not one a single strand of hair sticking out

           she combs each strip

                      into one put-together tail

curled into elegance and beauty



once allured to her sequences

there's no getting out

           like a muppet

now clutched in her hands


caught in its grip

grasping my thoughts

           taking on me

lost in its shackles

The Muppet

BY Catherine Shim


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