Hair obsessed

In my little notebook

I can be anyone I want to be

pasting in my face with

hair from another woman

on Monday I have gunmetal tips and silver part

on Tuesday an afro of gold and bronze

on Wednesday I borrow from a Tokyo model

framing my cheeks with strands sleek and dark

as Raven feathers, strange and bold

Thursday shimemrs in on tints

of indigo, lavender and puce

Friday lets loose with locks of crimson and magenta

Saturday borrows a blue the color of bubble tea

from a bony young model who looks nothing like me

I don't need Vogue cheekbones

to play and dream

on another page

with my gluestick and magazines

on a rainy Sunday

praying at the church of

Billie's old chrome green

my mouth drops open

the scissors fall

my world curls into flames

with a Siberian lion's mane

roar...

until Monday comes

then turn the page

and become another one