Bolted
If you’re a woman,
no one tells you
how wind will stroke your scalp
when you shave your head.
No one whispers to you
how water welcomes your skin
when you dive into its body
with a shaved head.
Some will say
you’ve bolted,
grown bitter,
will judge you or
assume illness.
A stylist might try to dissuade you,
try to talk you into highlights, extensions.
She won’t volunteer
that you should
say yessss
when the barber asks
if you want him to use a straight razor
on your neck.
Trust me. Trust his steady hand.
There might be the sting of after shave,
but you will carry notes
of citrus and lavender with you the rest of your day.
3 thoughts on "Bolted"
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*unfinished–on deadline!
I was reading along and digging the imagery and then noticed it’s written by my old friend Sue — bravo to you on a shiny poem!
Thanks, Steve! So good to read you here!