after Deana Lawson

Behold the miracle of afro hair.
Blackness so complete
you could put your hand in
never get it back. Recognise
the shark eyes of boredom,
the dial of two women
tending to every hair on your head
cussing a curve into a needle,
thick thread spooling,
the scissors are just there
but teeth are closer.
Ever sat for thirteen hours
in the same chair?
Scalp sliced so many times
you can’t recall if you are girl
or railroad?