The Two Fairest in the Mirror

Knees down and set, crumpled, and folded
in the dirt under the willow trees
in the backyard after mom told us to clean our shit up
since dad’s kaibigans were coming over
they were to fill the air around the house
with vapours of beer and talk of the country
we knew so out we went
to clean our toys up      and thats when
the mirror shone
out from the ground crooked in the grass and we saw our faces
yours too round and small to comprehend
anything other than it was clean up time
mine      just past the age where I knew shit was a bad word
and that a moustache was a big deal
though dad never had one fully
and we had argued about if I actually had one then
mom nodding that it was just peach fuzz
nothing to write home about     the mirror shone and it
was framed red all around    oval and sinister
you would use it to paint make-up on your barbies always
angling the mirror at the spots it needed to show                     
and I thought they were royalty
beautiful even if their hair was entangled it was still
golden    and ken was the perfect man I                                                  
made him drive all around in his pink VW
crushing the grass in its wake
and the only guy he fought was my godzilla
figurine who was not actually a worthy rival because he was too
scaly and we both knew this
barbie would never date godzilla
so ken didn’t have to worry anyway
though barbie was a tease to godzilla    
a  complete flirt                                                                                                       
and godzilla would roar for a date
but ken would kick his ass mightily
with a straight leg kick
and a mouthful of explosion sounds    from me
that was my favourite part
you just liked to have barbie dress up
for the occasion
which right now is how the mirror is shining
I bend to pick it up and you stop me seeing
something interesting you say that you see us
both in the mirror and our faces looked funny
so we looked in the mirror  and I didn’t know
who I saw  
our hair was black
and our skin was darker than I thought   our eyes were brown
and under-magnified
and were hiding
beneath our hair
under our mushroom cuts
which had the gall
to make us look so imprecise
and unlike anyone we knew
in our neighbourhood     it was the haircutters fault    
since mom was blameless   and dad was too
for bringing us across two oceans  
and having us    forget what we really looked like    when we
played

L. N. Ostonal is in his fourth year of a Film Studies degree and a Minor in Creative Writing. He recently screened a short film at the Cannes Short Film Corner and does other things outside, rarely. He writes and likes Kafka.