Pores of Colors

Woke up this morning at
6 A.M

jetlagged. Got out my
blue hair dye paste
with the sort of

quiet joy I

can only describe as
liberation from my
high paying service

industry job. Where I
was a
thing that sold
things to

things. I started to

carefully paint my
hair with the brush.

I don’t think blue hair
makes me pretty it only

makes me
who I

always told myself
I wanted to be before I

got here. I reach to find
a towel. Contemplate

that I’ll ruin it and
remember that this

is my life. With our

towels, free to be any
goddamn shade of
ruined
we want.

 

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