Saturday, January 19, 2008

A tangle of mysterious prejudices.

We stumble into our homes in a humbled haze late at night and in despair cut off our hair. We want a new outlook through a new body.

We finish and look upon ourselves in the glass. We nod, approve, but we only see a half. Another appears behind and fixes the parts we can not see. This one sees it all, trims to form, approves. A friend will have our back.

1 comment:

Lynn said...

This scene literally took place in my kitchen on Thursday. Strange.