Being Bald

Your eyes flicker hope when they meet mine.
Your lips curve into that pink ribbon of wonder.
I’m not surprised when your hand grabs for mine, clutching.
And then you ask: Are you a survivor?

I smooth my shorn head, sum you up, smile.
Are you holding out for hope or hanging on?
Should I shake you up or cut you loose?
Will I make you cry…or shall I?
I have a different truth for every stranger’s dare.
I’m brave enough to answer.
Do you have the courage to listen?

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