I was washing my hair
One hair fell out
It floated in the air
In the hot steam it danced free and careless
While I was rinsing the shampoo, it hit the wall
To start, only a small part got stuck
The rest of it still danced
Grounded, but still beautiful and graceful
As I watched, the other end got stuck too
Slowly, bit by bit, the hair hugged the wall
Moving less and less
Sometimes it still convulsed, as if it was trying to break free
Finally, it became one with the wall
Whose story is it?
Hair’s ? Mine ? Ours ?