Hair


I colored my hair once, how it reminded me of sky after rain had dissipated. I used to wear it in a bun like Audrey Hepburn, but decided to have it trim some inches beneath the lobe of my ear. As I watched clumps of curls slump to the floor, I kept thinking how the blade of those shears made me anxious. But now what I want more is to let it hang like a ponytail and watch mockingbirds fly as if they were airplanes. However strangely, I prefer it curly to anything else. Straight hair is for more serious girls. And today, all I can think to do is collapse in the basket of your arms while sunflowers thrive in their wake. But instead, I must settle for crimped hair and the consolation of this poem.






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