In Wavy Strands
Power crackles through my tangles. My hairbrush falls into three pieces when I run it through my hair since my new grays are actually spears. All it took was a little pressure. Turns out—I am a spark electric who can break a heart as well as a hairbrush. My frizz invites a tang of fear: the hiss and snap of each follicle which can turn the whole into jagged remnants. What else might I speed into entropy or cast into a black hole? I’m hoping duct tape will be enough to mend everything, though I suspect it will be no match for these tendrils.
Allison Burris
Allison Burris writes whimsical and subversive poems from Oakland, CA. Her most recent publications are in The Lit Nerds amd Redheaded Stepchild. You can find her at the library looking for a magic portal or getting up to some kitchen witchery. She writes about creativity on Substack at Ink in the Archives. Connect with her: https://linktr.ee/allisonburris