Christian Fundamentalism

before the service starts my sister pulls the girl aside want me to do your hair? no girl should be so happy to say yes to this question She takes her to the ante office the singing muffled through the walls of sanctuary she removes the filthy coat as if it is a royal robe and the hair tells its story noxious, fibrous, cloud her mother has no time for things (she is not a thing) Sit here My sister pulls tools from the cabinet straddles the girl’s torso with skirted thighs a warm recliner oils and pieces of plastic pass through her hands my sister combs the chaos wrapping the knotted parts around her slick hands so it will not hurt separates the hair micro-acre by micro-acre massage the strands anoint the scalp with oil and give a blessing your hair is beautiful the girl's head sways with the combing and the braiding a trance meditation until a gentle push of the shoulder says the sermon is over