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Alexandra Malouf

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“Hair Fall”

An image of a poem. It reads: Again my hair has begun falling out / in clumps, airy wreaths / that roll like tumbleweed through doors, / ensnare their nots in drains / and wheelchair brakes. / An invasive species, this ivy owns /my house. It adorns / my shower walls, and broods / in the static between sweaters. / From pillows, I peel handfuls / of fluff, slippery with oil. / Danny sweeps up snarls / and shows them to me, / feeble trophies for living / each day with sickness. / While bone grinds / on bone, feet stiff / as stone, my hair flutters down, / and gathers like pear blossoms / in the fissures of my wilting body. / Does a branch feel / a petal falling, or notice only / what is already lost, / what new bud fills the empty place? / I need not beg my hair regrow / the way I beg nerves / and muscle. Even in my grave / it will crawl through mold / just to harbor me, a gold shawl draped / over my clavicle like a hug spilling / warmth into my lonely heart-cage.

“Hair Fall,” Pleiades Special Folio: “On Disability,” Vol. 44.1 (Spring), May 2024, page 65.

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