Long Enough

I like clips and every daffodil is a little butthole waiting for the rain.

Last summer, I wore it in a polka dot bandana that I stole from the green room of the theater where at the time I had worked for seven years. The bandana kept the strands in place and out of my eyes, or at least it tried. Sometimes a wisp would just barely escape to endlessly tickle my neck. Last summer, I moved cities. I have so much more to say about this but don’t know where to begin other than to tell you me and the little hair strand I left with were dancing…