Must I admit: that being with you was like pulling out a single strand of hair, daily. Look—- this fleshy white button ferally crowning To begin: with the scraping of my own scalp off lining brainwashed finger nails as a reminder to my heart still beating upon this earth so that you may take the bottom piece to split my split ends in half leaving broken off eyelashes underneath the talons. Were they your keepsake to search a shine when combing foreign locks? Your reminder in the strangeness of other bloodstained women?