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Fine Tooth Comb

a fork for a comb to untangle my messy hair

you look at me with curiosity

as if I’m some sort of monstrosity

my long red hair flows with grace

as my make shift comb glides smoothly

I tend to enchant, to capture

before my feet would leave me

before the sun sets on the third day

before it’s too late

So I sit near the lagoon

where the moon shines bright

I comb my hair with my make shift comb

hoping to captivate the Prince

who’ll save me from the sea