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Cutting Her Bangs Again

The mirrored door of our medicine cabinet came off its hinges today. You were searching for the waterproof band-aids you made me buy because every time you have a cut you wash your hands thrice as much. You said it was wasteful to change your band-aid nine times a day. The mirror crashed, sending your image in shattered fractals in the sink, on the counter, woven in the new seashell bath mat. Thirty or forty or what seemed like a thousand glass pictures of your two month old bangs. So you grabbed the scissors with ease from the newly freed shelf and went to work without a band-aid. Trimming your bangs back two months. Tiny hairs on the porcelain sink– Ants on honeydew

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Ann Peck

Date: 3/18/2023 5:05:00 PM

This is a fun poem to read, and your imagery is amazing! I could see those hairs on the shattered fractals everywhere. Nice work.

C.W. Bryan
Date: 3/18/2023 5:34:00 PM

That is so amazing to hear! Thank you so much for the comment. I particularly liked that line as well, so glad it resonated with you and so glad you had fun reading it.

Di11y Da11y

Date: 3/18/2023 2:05:00 AM

Great imagery that is immersive throughout, then great link with the turning back time sentiment which then contrasts with the laissez-faire attitude to the broken mirror. Great content in such a short poem. Congratulations on your placement :)

C.W. Bryan
Date: 3/18/2023 5:53:00 AM

Thank you so much! I'm glad the imagery came through, this one started with just the haiku and worked backwards. Congratulations on your placement as well!