Contest : A Clever, Highly Intriguiging Haibun
Sponsored by : Hilo Poet
Date posted : January 23, 2026
In a small room that promises a large candor the doors are locked from inside, not to keep others out, but to let the self get exposed fully. The tiles are cold, the mirror unforgiving, the light too bright for a reason. Everything unnecessary is shed without ritual. What remains feels bright and true. Once inside, time loosens its clutch. The body conducts its routine procedures while the mind drifts unperceived, longing for the sparkling freshness. The mirror watches without attachment, reflecting the body exactly as it is, not as it was awhile ago, not what it would be later. The steam rises like a thick white screen, blurring the edges of the wall tiles and the mirror. Within the pulsating heat, the body is nameless. It is just flesh and shape. Then, the valve turns. The stimulating silence that follows is the most gripping swathing vibration the body feels in the morning. A soft fabric waiting patiently soaks up without complaint, remembers nothing. If insight has a fabric, it might be this, pliable and practical, always within reach. As the light is switched off, the door closes for the room to return to its waiting mode for the next occupant for makeover. locked room’s fogged mirror lets soiled body learn again how to look anew
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