Henna This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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The cuff of my light winter jacket
brushes teasingly against my hand -
the rich golden brown paste,
arranged in a henna pattern,
feels cool against my skin.
The ladies told me to let the henna dry,
but the liquid paste squishes sickeningly,
collapsing under my starchy
and just like that, a part of the henna
is irreversibly erased -
a curl here, a petal plucked from the flower -
those swirls of life that will
never see the sky.

I was never good at following directions.

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fairygabby99 said...
Oct. 21, 2013 at 1:04 pm
This poem is amazing! It really gives me an image. 
t.lee. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
May 25, 2014 at 12:14 pm
Wow, thank you! I really wanted to paint an image with this poem.
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