By Charlotte Cosgrove
As I pass the mirror I feel a pull
To say her name.
Like we did when we were kids.
Every kid had tried to say it.
You know the third one kills you.
Bloody Mary will officially adopt and enslave you.
Never to be seen again.
Now we laugh as we dare my son to say
Barry Manilow, in the mirror, three times.
But, he just can’t do it.
He wakes me up in the night, crawls into bed with me.
I have to show him Mandy and Copacabana on Youtube.
I go to the bathroom to look at my reflection again.
Bloody Mary, I say.
Charlotte Cosgrove is a poet and lecturer from Liverpool, England. She is published in Trouvaille Review, Dreich, Beyond Words, Words and Whispers, Confingo, Northern Otter Press as well as others in print and online. Her first poetry book Silent Violence with Petals will be published later in the year with Kelsay Books. She is Editor of Rough Diamond Poetry Journal.