Prickly Stubble on Her Scalp

The barber says what you want Miss

She stumbles on her words

Her lips are tangled and worthless

Words spill from her soul

Cut please

The barber taps his clippers with hands shaking and eyes bulked

She says once more; cut please

Barbers stare into scalps of men refusing to look at Miss

She bounces on the empty chair, says louder and prouder, cut please

Clippers buzzing to the tunes of silence

She drifts to a free and easy life

Chairs spinning, left, right, up, down

Coils dance, twirl, float, free fall, glide; hug the floor


He says, you pretty

Miss pearly whites gleam with confidence

Miss refuses the mirror

Head held high


She leaves the men in the cave weak and speechless

by Crystal Tousana


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