Tonsurephobia
The razor pausing at my throat,
purring in anticipation of its target
gives pause to all that's logical
as I behold in the mirror,
a tiny tremor in the eye
of the holder
The blade hums as it hovers in stillness,
humbly awaiting final commandment
from its supreme commander
as he beholds in the mirror,
the fury in the eye
of his tormentor
My silent and sudden prayer ends,
with humble thoughts of gratitude
to my own ultimate authority
when I behold in quiet bliss,
the serenity in the hand
of my barber
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