roots

Luscious, wavy, never ending.
Curl after curl, strand after strand.
Cascading in a billowy manner
extending from my roots, my cultural roots, my political roots.
Flowing, falling, reaching
radiating poetry, words of beauty.
Not just brown.
Not just there.
Like a woven cloth, caramels, browns, interlaced golds
surrounding and framing the elements of my face.
Gently spilling out from behind my ear
where I tucked it away
but the wind has other thoughts.
Luscious, wavy, never ending.

-Aida