a crowded train
I was, once again, forced-fed minutes
to scrutinise the back of another stranger’s head
in front of me
unlicensed rear end phrenology
some hairy terrain
uneven tufts and sweat
straight, wave or curl
water spiral and plug hole
all the same
some glossed scalps
might be fate foretold
of hair
loss or greyed
the back skull he knows from reflections
the smell of her shampoo reminds me
of the smell of her and another shampoo.
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