Three Poems by Ally Ang

Self-Portrait with Cropped Hair 

“I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.” —Frida Kahlo

This time, you must meet
my steadfast gaze. Watch
as I unmarry each strand

from my scalp, the scissors
a phantom limb in my grip,
metal as sharp as grief. Don’t

turn away. As a child, I was told
that a woman’s hair is her crowning
glory, but this keratin kingdom

lies limp and lifeless at the feet
of a vengeful god. My beauty, 
you used to call me, taming

my hair with your fingers, held
in your eyes like an insect
pinned inside a frame. This is how

I demand to be seen: dressed
in

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