Killer Hair


Man entered flowers, tattoos, piercings. Sat on the stairs staring out smelling of wet grass and rain, leaf on his head, yellow, couldn’t say anything.
Brown spots, small

Nature Wild How In the dirt. 
I don’t know.

How fragile are we, sting to be stung by a sudden wasp in the hair. When you torched your hair, didn’t know what, to be stung, sting, hit, anger in fists, in small beings staring outside scared.