Page 138 of The Black Flamingo

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“Put your money away, Colin. Let’s go.”

As they walk away, I turn to Lennie

and say, “On second thoughts, let’s go back

to yours.”

Back on campus, after another spliff

with Lennie, I stumble to my room.

In my bathroom

I go right up close

to the mirror

as if to kiss

my reflection.

I pull back my hair

away from my face,

trace my left cheek

bone and jawline,

run my left index finger

down my nose, then

pick up the scissors:

This is the change. I cut.

Letting loc after loc

drop to the floor.

I’m shedding

something other

people use to define

me, falling to my feet.

I gather my hair from the floor

and hold up this fistful of me

that I don’t want anymore.

I look in the mirror and laugh

at what I see. Cutting it myself

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