My son asked me
how can she
keep a baby
from her parents
like that I
think about her
the witch as I cut off
most of my hair
in the mirror
midnight split
ends on marbled
formica
I cut off
my parents
in the pandemic
there’s only
so much
here too
harsh overhead
lighting but our children
plush
under weighted
blankets
and theirs thin
metallic designed
for emergency
the witch
can’t be
that cruel
he thought my
curls cover
the white
tiles