Bad Hair Day

Today:
another day that
clothes don't feel right.

I'm
Human, unrefined
daughter of Eve,

itching for Eden. 

Eating a fried egg from the hot

skillet, bending over the stove. 

Food dives down my throat
unthanked, untasted.

This is what we call
a "bad hair day"; another way of making
excuses for our gap teeth, muffin top,
athlete's foot
and halitosis.
Our
sluggish hands and reedy voices,
post nasal drip.

Did You feel like this? So painfully
un-suffering, unready, pasted on?

With all I am, I need You.
Work with this.