My curls have a mind of their own. I rid the knots with my wide-toothed comb caused by the wind, finger twirling, and tossing and turning. Step out the shower and they hang past my shoulders in waves, weighed heavy from the warm water. Air dried, they shrink to my chin and expand. They quench their thirst and seek to replenish with any found moisture - humidity their favorite dessert. Depending on their mood and the weather my head wears ringlets, frizz, corkscrews, or kinks. They never look the same despite the daily routine - wet, comb, and condition. They live with attitude - bounce and fly for the fun of it. Curls are crazy, wild, intense, present, and extroverted. I love my curls. My curls are me.