Writing

put her palms against my scalp. Massaged

until my eyes turned over. with each rake

through, spoke softly to me. said honey. 

laughed when my hair swarmed my face; touched

my head  and got me out of war. when she lifted

my brown veil said:     there you are 

a woman cut my hair today. massaged my scalp 

with each rake through  spoke softly

woman across the aisle,  cut the hair of a man 

who served in Spain and had to kill             Americans

and whose daughter married an Indian man. 

she nods and nods as he continues getting shorter, and when

he leaves he leaves  a tip  and talks to long and when the door jingles 

on the way out loneliness makes a sound. 

I know why mesodia turns her people into stone now.

know why some awful mind got motion sickness and made 

A creature cure. Maybe if there was a bug id kiss everyone to catch it

Stay in bed for weeks or kiss the man and we'd both laugh and laugh

like you laugh when you find out the bad thing didn't happen. Both look

At everyone until the world stands still, let our hair grow and talk

Until the even statues call us pretty steal earmuffs from the lost stores 

To keep the bells at bay.

Anger is something I feel seeing you.

The little red man on my shoulder whispers 

When I see you. 

“Rage, 

Rage, 

Rage.”

When I see you, 

I’m hardly seeing…

Hardly thinking, speaking, listening…

Everything stops.

My breath catches like all the air has been punched 

Out of my lungs. 

My mouth shuts, as if it had been sewn.

All I can hear is this ringing…

This ringing that seems to get louder and louder,

The closer you come. 

My vision blurs as if I stood too fast. 

Except, 

My vision is red. 

I see you, 

Only you, 

In this cloud of red. 

The ringing becomes louder, 

Almost unbearable. 

The little red man yells, 

“Rage!”

Just once more, before you passed by. 

The ringing dulls, my lungs fill, mouth relaxed, and my vision…

My vision clears— and I am free to see the world.

My beautiful, red-free world, without you.