Splitting Heirs

My cousin was diagnosed
with trichotillomania,
so of course I’m compelled
to twist and pull as much hair as possible
in the presence of my mother.

The look on her face is priceless,
lips twitching and pursed,
mouth opening and closing,
barely holding back a reprimand.

When I separate
the rough from the smooth,
blonde from brown,
love from disappointment,
gift from chain;

I’ll stop, I think.