a quiet door w/ curtains 

i needed my bangs 
to grow wild & come down
over my eyes like a curtain--
a grotto of hair--
a marvelous cove.

i populated my face
with cave fish.

no one would see me--
disappear myself invisible.
my face, a window behind
a wall of bricks--
ebbed in an alley of water.

i had this plan all along
when i asked for bangs 
in the hair dresser chair.

the scissors walked with
their skinny legs across
my arms. i explained 
that i needed a haircut--
one that would unleash 
all the lengths of my skull.

legs twitching as they worked-- 
the scissors gossiped 
about little girls 
like me--

saying how they smell 
like metal-- how they 
always insist on covering
their faces with veils.

i assumed the scissors 
had been there for 
my first communion.
there were thimbles 
& cheese puffs-- a wafer 
still under my tongue 
turned into a moth 
right then & there
so i swallowed it.

mirrors floated around
the hair dresser chair
so that i could see all angles
even though i was only
interested in seeing 
the bangs.

i loved them 
& ran my pointer finger 
across their straight line
right above my eye brows. 
my face, a stage with 
sticky lights.

my face, a budding quiet door.

in my bed room, hair grew 
where there used to be curtains.

i cut the hair for fun &
sprinkled it on my bed 
as if it were flower petals.

a voice from above said
"don't cut your hair."

so i listened & hid
my scissors under my bed 
where all day they pace until
i let them cut my hair again.

bangs down to my chin
bangs down to my neck
a soft mask
bricks made of hair

the fish swimming 
the fish swimming between
strands of hair.