On the day that I only allowed myself
to listen to AM radio, I cut my hair.
Layers irreparably tangled
collapsed weightlessly.
“I’ll take care of this later.”
The words walked off
faster than I ever could,
before another change of mind.
Horrified we might
become strangers again,
I booked a flight.
With all the money
I did not earn this winter
I want to buy you a gift, something
beautiful, like when too much
alone time has me spinning in the heat,
skirt levitating.
Kate Devine 