she ushers you into the chair, draping a black towel around your neck, and you wonder if she'll need to stack phone books underneath you so you can crane to reach the sink
she doesn't. you've grown enough
the water turns on.
sensing complete vulnerability, your eyes water and your hands are snared at your sides.
feral cat
you've given this woman all your trust
you've left the pale sinew
of your neck wide open to the air.
dazy hazy
hair floating in the sink
lather rinse repeat/lather rinse repeat/lather rinse–
is the temperature alright?
fluorescent lights flaring through a fisheye lens
you're benjamin button cradled in the womb, nestled in a cavity of fluid
an amniotic sack of vanity
when she wraps a towel around my neck, she is my mother, dumping a large cup of water over my long hair, which is draped over the tub like laundry hung out to dry.
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