Fall of the Damned

Strands had come away at the root. Final destination: the carpet pile, the drain, the navy cardigan. A few days had passed since I stepped into the cubicle. What would have collapsed onto the showertray earlier had remained amongst the living hairs. Loose threads gripped and crawled over and under what stayed strong, greased and beating. It hugged its brothers and sisters. 

My eyebrows are close to black, my eyelashes too. The hair on my head has been warmed; it grows out of the scalp hot and red. Some cooled down once free from the follicle, becoming brown and black. Some hit a cold spot from the beginning: grey. In the summertime, the sun would catch alight and revive the embers that had survived the cold months. Sun overseas sparked a fire so sharp that it would vitrify the ends. There is no comprehensive shade, only ribbons and ripples. I do not mind the grey which embellishes the top of my head more and more. It only adds to the stripes and there is no holding back the pen. My hair is vitrified some more. 

I removed my trousers by flicking ankles. I lifted my jumper over my head and placed it over the lip of the bathtub. One sleeve brushed against the floorboard suspended in the air that was about to meet steam. I walked around the bathtub, slid open the door and stood inside. I pressed three fingertips against perspex and stroked to the left. I was hemmed in between tiles of green and grey. 

I twisted the dials and, instead of water droplets, came a painter. his hand reached down onto my skin from above. My back became a plane for thick lines and colours found in the earth’s clay, silt and stone. My shoulders rolled like unstretched linen. The dropped hairs were pushed and stacked on top of one another. Some plucked strands became lost in the in-between for a little longer. Soap met linseed oil across muscle, joint and dimple. The faucet was turned to cold but it could not calm the scorched and matted ground. I tilted my head upward, closed my eyes and smelt charcoal and coconut.

Rubens, Peter Paul. Fall of the Damned (1620). Oil on canvas, 286cm x 224cm, Alte Pinakothek, Munich