GH O TI

f i sh

Issue No. 1

The Photographs With My Hair Up

4 on a strip,
probably taken in
some Burlington
Woolworth's just
before the wedding.
I wanted my hair
left long and flowing,

wild as dark
vines in midnight
water, not pinned
into something
neat and small,
subdued. When
the rabbi said hours
after this photo,
when I still could
have balked, run
free, "enjoy this
day, after this
it will be your
husband, your kids,"
I felt the hairpins
turn to knives,
carve warnings
under the pale
lace, diamond
tiara

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