I think of myself in a mirror,
thinking about thinking of me.
I laugh at scary reflections,
not recognising the things I see.
On Mondays, I'm brightly coloured:
the week gives me time to fade.
By Friday, I'm a dirty gray,
and on Saturday, a paler shade.
Which leaves a single day to clean
a muddied palette left to dry.
to prepare for the week ahead,
to wonder who I am, and why.