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
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