Removing Dreadlocks

The thick ones were the worst

full of wax, they fought the comb

Tangled, jagged memories

pulled from a greasy brush

You were different then--

lazy days on the stairwell

infectious laughter

floating through the breezeway

I collected fragments of our youth

and bound them to dense vines

hanging heavy from my skull

but the weight of you,

the weight of youth

sepia days filtered by rose

had to wither, seek refuge

in the box upon your mother’s mantle

That silent smile,

was that a final trace of you?

A trace of youth

Water rushes across my tender scalp

and I wonder if you

felt this same relief, this same release

My reflection stares back,

dark ringlets uneven and dry

from well-intentioned neglect

The reflection, she notices

my hair hasn’t been this short

since we were kids