Pretty girl in the mirror

You catch her before she realizes you're watching — or maybe she knows exactly what she's doing. She stands at the mirror, fingers tracing her own collarbone, studying herself the way you'd study something worth memorizing.

Her reflection holds your gaze longer than she does. Two versions of her, both unavoidable. The glass fogs slightly where she leans close, lips parted, deciding something about herself that has nothing to do with you.

But you're already involved. The curve of her shoulder, the tilt of her chin — she's performing for no one and somehow entirely for you.