Cut it, she said, when mine grew long.
MY MOTHER HAD THE THICKEST HAIR
Let’s make a shirt of it. But I tied it in a knot, refusing.
Let’s make a shirt of it and put it on a horse. But we have no horse. I
tied one more knot, fixing my hair to me.
I thought of a hair shirt on a horse, a girl riding away on it. The slight
irony and sadness.
My mother once had the thickest hair, but she cut it all off. It smelt
of a fragrant oil she wore.
My mother is all gone now and she was so beautiful.