{i}a pome from earthquake-friendly mexico. -g. {/i}

these clippers in my hand buzz quietly
running smoothly over your perfect head.
you sit motionless, chin on
your hand,like some great philosopher
contemplating the depth and breadth of
the world, the universe,
this bathroom. i work soundlessly, my fingers
running over the stubble of your remaining hair,
checking to make sure it?s all even,
all uniform, all perfect--but of course,
as perfect as your head is,
it all comes out right in the end,
and you smile up at me in satisfaction,
the puzzle of universes and bathrooms and worlds
solved, at least for now.