dye

the first time i dyed my hair blue
i washed it out in the big plastic sink
where you rinse your paint brushes.
there was can of sardines open at the bottom
& a bowl of shriveled grapes. knuckle-deep
in blue. i tried to scrub the dye out
from under my finger nails but my cuticles
went indigo & the creases of my palms
made mosaic tile blues. on the shelf
in my bed room a tiny framed picture of
the virgin mary observed me with her
blue cowl. i used to want to play many in
the Nativity. i don't know why but
it might have had something to do with
the color blue. i need to find something
to do with a bucket of mismatched hair dyes.
the pink reminds me of the cherry blossom
dress & the green that never took even
after three layers. i lay outside
in the grass & hope that the green there
is contagious. the splotches that will
never wash out of the bathroom sink.
do they remind you of me on a hot summer
afternoon when you go to wash your face?
i came to take showers & let the dye
drip down my body like i was a melting
wax figurine-- clumps of red-- the maroon
blood spilling from my nose & my ears--
the copper orange making a sunset
to drip down my chest. i don't know what
to tell you when i explain that i don't
like to dye my hair anymore. i feel like
it would be a lie to call it a passing
adolescent impulse. there is something 
religious about wanting to summon a color
out of your body. soaking into my pillow--
i bleed purple & blues-- pressed into 
the case like a stamper. i'm here dumping
the dyes in the shower-- using them
to stain my skin-- streak of teal &
violet. maybe i will go outside & tell
all the trees to kneel down on the bathroom
floor while i work the colors down to their
scalps. you will come out this morning &
in the rain the trees with wax-doll melt
like it do. there are waters that still
draw inks out of me-- i hemorrhage prism
until i'm an empty glass triangle
to hang in the window. what will
the light do with a boy like me? 
that first time you told me it looked
uneven & together we sat at the kitchen 
table-- layering the color on again.
Vaseline-crowned girl. saint mary in the
stairwell-- washing the blue out
of her hair. all the saint's fingernails
are cerulean & you color me cobalt.