Hair 1

I started biting my nails instead of chewing on my hair

And then I wore it rolled along my temples like Dorothy

And my arms ached, learning to French braid.

At 18, after bangs and bad dye jobs,

I got out the electric razor and a scissors

Chopped chunks until I felt I'd shaken free

Of the horrible things hung up in my tresses

And my scalp burned in the summer sun and

I felt the breeze, fell in love with the wind.

And then I watched it grow to the small of my back

And when I swam in the ocean I was something new

Something true.

I tired of letting it grow, little did I know

You were right around the summer;

So I tried an A-line and a '20s bob

And spent too much to get it shadow boxed purple.

By our wedding day it was just long enough

To twist and pin like curtains drawn so the joy streams in

And now I'm back to brushing spells through

The length of it along with oils

Rosemary, castor, olive

And waiting until my braids will reach my knees