Hours of searching

for treatments

and my hair is still

unmanageable

white and old,

my shape is still full

round and soft,

my eyes are heavy

swollen and dark;

my mind is a wandering

mass of curiosity

with no promise

to be kept by any maker

other than the one

that gave me this body

-what a funny god

who allows ruin to be as

inevitable as beauty is fleeting.