Prom 1965
My hair was sprayed
So high gloss
It looked as if it had been painted shut.
And later,
When the boy
Lay his head on mine,
During a slow dance,
It crackled.

————

Marla Brown Fogelman writes for fun and generally not for profit–although some of her essays and articles have appeared in various publications, including the Washington Post, Parents, and Kiplinger’s. She lives with her supportive husband in Silver Spring, Maryland.