Ribbons

A poem I wrote last week. Its about the loss of innocence, mothers and daughters, fragile belief systems and cultural superstitions.

I had a jar of satin ribbons
frayed tongues of the rainbow,
Hair oil and a comb- a girl's treasure.

All mothers would spread it's net
across lakes of growing hair,
Comb it every morning before school,

Till it bled black-
Till it spoke and spat of colour-
Till it smelled of a distant island.

Anchored down by two red ribbons,
on the glass bed I saw a fat pearl
Glaring back at me. One eyed and lost

Mothers warn against this third eye.
They say it can see every part of you
Even if you try to hide it well.

A black snake hangs down my shoulder,
Red tongue against bitten skin.
I can't tell her. I saw what it saw.