Hair And The Statue
My hair smells like doll's hair tonight.
What a strange scent.
Did it gather all my dreams of escaping?
Out...of this room, this house, this city, this country, this life...
I pictured you as a sad cold statue in a park. I wanted you there to visit when I wanted...
You could not react
I'd touch your face, reach near you...gaze at the stone you've become
I'd slap you...
and leave...then come back