An Ode to Eyebrows (Day 79 In Quarantine)

An Ode to Eyebrows (Day 79 In Quarantine)
By Melissa Perincheril

Oh eyebrows, why do you grow? 
You were once perfectly shaped,
Like the arcs of a double rainbow.
I always fuss over you - I worry and I fret,
But not learning to thread you myself is my biggest regret. 

I stand outside the closed threading shop,
Hand on the door,
What I wouldn’t give to go in,
Just once more.

To see you in all your beauty, 
The slight point, the clean lines,
Keeping you groomed was my duty,
How did I miss the signs?

I blinked, and suddenly, you got out of control.
I look in the mirror; I have lost my soul.
I promise after quarantine, I will never take you for granted,
Every time you raise or furrow, I will be enchanted.

I look in the mirror, toss my head this way and that,
There’s no easy way to say this,
Quarantine has made you fat.
And while you could stand to lose a few,
I could never, ever stand to lose YOU.

And that is my biggest fear in all of this,
That I will pluck until you are no more,
That those who see my face will notice something horribly amiss,
This fear has shaken me to my core.

We all break down - all desperate in our own ways,
One shaves his head, another prays.
I grab my weapon, it is time to tweeze,
I raise my arm to the heavens, and I almost freeze.

With trepidation and shaking hands,
I reach for the returning, loathsome stray strands.
Every time I cautiously pluck - an endless torment, 
I wonder to myself, “Was that one important?”

At some point, the fear subsides,
We’re all in or nothing - I have chosen my side.
I start recognizing you - you look more like yourself.
And I have written a poem about eyebrows. 
Yes, this is a cry for help.

Like Michelangelo finding David in the marble,
I recognize my masterpiece again - my precious, such a marvel.
The detail, the intricacy, the flawless design,
I gaze in awe - you are simply sublime.

I brush the hairs, trim with my scissors,
It wasn’t easy, but my God, I delivered.
I can’t help it, I feel a burst of pride.
I go on video calls again; I no longer hide.
This is us - my eyebrows and me.
No, we are not perfect. But we’re trying to be.