after fifteen years
of empty decisions,
the mirror shows
a blonde again
and i don’t recognize her
but i call my dad anyway.
he picks up with
that tired hum
and when i tell him,
he goes quiet,
says something soft
about his little girl,
like she came home
from the war
with hair like sunlight
and a voice like gravel.
i said,
“i wish.”
but i didnt say what for.
i think...
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