The smell of ammonia fills up the beauty shop.
Something is cooking in the hair drier. Someone
is having her hair fried. Toxic fumes so difficult
to consume in a room full of high estrogen levels.
Traces of fake nails, fake hair, fake eye lashes,
Hair pieces, braids and Botox fill up the room.
Eye brows are ripped to give the scary surprise look,
hair follicles are stripped and eye lashes dark like tar.
Well constructed clown faces chattering and chirping
about everything. Reconditioned females seated
pouting their mouth in the waiting area. The lines of
deceit printed on their lips. Women sharing beauty
secrets and complaining about brittle nails, wrinkles
on their faces, stretch marks, dry thinning hair and
weak muscle tones. Talking about their partners,
friends and neighbors and sharing experiences.
Telling tales from the corners of their eyes, the
beauty shop is also a gossiping haven for females.
A woman of farce sits up in the high chair patting her
old weave, a static frizz from polyester layers and traces
of fake human hair, a stench worse than expired weed.
Another woman is plastering her scalp with no-lye base
relaxer. Traces of color in her hair as she folds her face to
hide the discomfort caressing her scalp. A fake texturing
from her nappy black strands to a brunette via a chemical
bond. A natural woman fully transformed in a beauty shop;
from her hair follicles to her toe nails. A brand new female.
Damn! A man could even fall in love with his ex-girlfriend
and wouldn’t notice that it’s the same woman.
Her skin blended with layers and layers of moisturizer and
make up. A flawless touch hiding her wrinkles and blemishes.
The aura of artificial beauty tattooed on her skin. A strange
looking creature from outer space that isn’t aware about the
price of artificial beauty.
A natural woman that ages gracefully is a gem. A woman so
sublime. Embracing her beauty in its natural form.
For she understands the importance of keeping it natural.
Loving her skin and hair, appreciating her natural beauty.