Don’t ask me where I’m from
just touch my hair
It feels like it could turn you
into rock and algae
even after avocado treatments
I have lent my hair
to hairbrushes and tubs that
clog
pillows and floors
dishes and food
to future scenes of crime where
I existed years ago
It comes from far away places
and its roots are dry as the desert
making it almost impossible to grow
like hers or hers or even yours
and yet
it soothes me and loves me
and handles mistreatment
it wraps and tickles
and caresses your face
and sometimes my shoulders
hairballs!
The Naked Pianist 