I got my hair cut
In a small salon the filthy streets of Philadelphia's Chinatown;
The golden eagle
Appropriately named as I always feel wings lift me when I leave
Though the streets are grey and black with dirt and grime,
The salon is clean, chic, and welcoming
First one young lady with limited English swept me up to be dropped into the care of a second who washed my hair and luxuriously massaged my scalp with exquisitely long nails
Then I was led over to a swivel chair to ponder my reflection and bat my legs as a little child, waiting on Kelly for my grown up haircut
At last Kelly was free, and she too whisked me over to her mirror
In her most exceptional care she cut and thinned and cut and razored and thinned and cut some more
Her fingers flew, running through my hair and seeming to drop pieces of hair by magic
At last she styled and stepped back nervously asking if I liked it
Quickly scrutinising it, running my fingertips over the much-shortened hair, I looked up
I love it
The bangs barely long enough to brush my eyebrows
The back as short as a boys, bristling when I rub it the wrong way
The front long and soft enough for tousling but short enough to stay out of my way
If I envelope my head in my hands I can easily trace the contours of my scalp
As though a couple silk scarves were draped over a barren skull
I was told I look like Emma Watson or Audrey Hepburn or a boy
But I love this
They're both stunning women
And I don't mind shocking a few old ladies with the surprise that this "strong young man" is I'm fact a girl
give me love because lately I've been trying to tie a ribbon in my mouth. I forget too soon all the lessons i learned from leaving the south.
i bend over backwards and open my chest in a position to bring it to rest like Prima the Ballerina. My fingers ***** the empty air as if to pluck a rosy twang from a long bow I just imagined. my circumference dissipates to reveal my core, wake up not any more in a beaten trailer, but a nest full of hope.
i'm wearing a black body suit and i finally have strength to stand on my toes. My point is I wish I had stood up for myself.
I can't forget looking down at the sad scene and I knew : I could never write again.
I lived in a place where the windows were nailed shut. You had to drink from a broken cup. Still. There's a place within that I refused to give up.
An angel above watched the figure of a girl stumble out from a tunnel into a staggering light, her feet ***** through the next 3 years of her life. The angel was forbidden to break a strict law of interference. The angel stood like an innocent bystander at a bar, babysitting her drink as the tall young brunette the one with beachy hair, she had sailor striped earrings, staggered into womanhood. The angel hovered closely over her shoulder during the young lady's independent study of the greatest lesson in life's classroom: Acceptance. Finally. On the brink of the greatest love of all.
"Give me love!" She shouted from a rooftop and crossed that off her to-do list. Then she danced like there was no one who could judge her except the angel who sat there in Lovely Sally leggings in a wistful stare, her blood had turned into alcohol. She wondered who this person was, too full of music to be filled with sorrow, dancing in a **** hole and on rooftops. She knew as an angel, she shouldn't drink, but no one judged her. She knew a few monks that smoked.
This chick had drank more than enough, hollered on a rooftop, kissed a girl, and now was too tired to stand, she swayed like willow tree. The 20 year old traveled without stopping to a park & sat
in the same seat she did when she was 17 and made love for the first time. Now the angel was seeing double.
The angel had this silly thought to take her to a rural town in Germany. Angels were allowed to visit any where and with any one. That's what she was doing now.
She watched her pick herself up and find herself home after a long wistful silence. The angel glanced at the spot under the oak tree after she dissapeared from her eyes. She left behind a checkerboard composition notebook bookmarked with a pink mechanical pencil. It was her to-do list.
- learn ballet
- buy my cat the most toys on the block
- afford sophisticated clothes
- get new violin strings and bow
- drink more water
- love myself
-donate nice clothes to an unfortunate girl
The angel read all 47 items through her bloodshot eyes and decided she'd help fullfill it.
I am in love with you.
I know we can't be together.
I am aware of our ages.
I get jealous.
I don't think anyone is good enough for you.
I think of you as my daughter.
I think you could be my soul mate.
I try to talk myself into not loving you.
Talk is cheap,
My love is true.