Eloise Schultz
Morgan finds the first louse on our bed.
I pinch the second in a piece of tape, drop it in the trash.
Our long-haired house is understandably horrified.
Jess won’t share her hair dryer. I borrow Gaia’s but don’t say what for.
Shir advises to drown my scalp in Cetaphil. At the pharmacy she waves, keeps her distance.
Drugstore woman murmurs, Good luck, sweetie.
TV detective shouts, We’ve got them cornered now—
At home I wear a plastic bag & think unwelcome thoughts.
Translucent droves descend the shower drain, clinging to licesaving rope,
Floating to lice afterlife while I wash the bedding
& my friends watch Italian art dramas.
True beauty, says Anđela, wavers between vulgarity & sensuality.
My mom used to check my head at breakfast. She pulled the brush so hard, I cried & begged for her to stop.
Now Morgan stands behind me & searches my hair.
Glides her comb through each curl: pronounces me clean.