Changing House
a lock of woman's hair. Her very colour, sheen, blonde brought up on sun. T est the strands, brittle something, sapless, stagey. Smell, as you often did, gulp now, gulp your fill. Sandalwood of the drawer.
Look at it again,
light on your palm.
Finders -
Keepers -
Losers.
Soundlessly, the plastic bag takes it at one go.
