When brunettes see me stop and stare
I wonder what hides beneath their glare
Under by and by smiles
I'm pathetic,
And watch
Walk through each like an aisle

Beauty, hair,
It's everywhere!
Long, long summer length
Bold of shine and full of strength
It's been so long, I've watched mine grow
But it still won't reach down to my toes
Hair, Hair, Hair


Blonde here, red there
Straight impossible thick or fair

I like men,
Not the latter
But that doesn't matter
Because the locks of men cannot compare
To a brunette that makes me stop and stare.

Yesterday I saw you fly
It was a bird but so am I
We flew so high I couldn't see
But who cares?
I'm as much a bird as bird could be.

Can a silver cord bring you back?
To your hair, your luminescent messy headed shards of gold.
It moves in a coil
Like a snake, or a Slinky.
Quakes like your curls.

The beads are perched, one next to the other.
Perfect and sagging in a bend like a timeless smile
Like yours
Each bead a tooth, each
makes me smile back at you.

And the colors
The colors, the colors.
They are your moods, your rounded flaws.
So great and right.
If I could wear you every day, If I could wear you every day.

Teeth so white,
and straight,
and clean

Legs so long,
so tan,
so lean

Body so fierce,
and tight,
and great

Mind so gone,
too little,
too late.

If you don't feel happiness
Don't show the world your pain.
It might be distressing
uncomfortable and grey.
And the comfort that you seek
Is the last thing that you'll get.
No one has your number.

If you don't have serenity
Or a plastic edgy smile
Conversation flattens
You'll be alone awhile.
And if you try to wear a mask
You'll soon be hollow all inside
You can't hide forever.

Won't you?

Will you?
Come be with me for awhile
Come be real with me awhile.
Awhile.

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

... So now it's been twelve years...
Do you still live?  We were torn from each other.
Can you still feel the constrictions of your heart
With every memory brought back to life?
And, sometimes, is the past so real, that you
can breathe the very air we breathed
- and feel my skin beneath your fingertips..?

In my world there is none replacing you
Though I have kept my paper dolls for comfort's sake
My cool resolve is straining.
I can still feel the cool coarse texture of your hair
-and long again for innocence.

Will I carry  you in my heart unto my last days
Never knowing what was lost?
This forever unrequited love plays like a tragedy.
Shall we never know our hearts again?
Shall I always dream and awaken empty
-you in your world, -I in mine?

How shall we counsel our children- love our mates?
Are humans never to be allowed perfect love,
But forced to part and seek our surrogates?
I wish for you what I have not:
Conjugal bliss and total amnesia to past perfection,
Renewal of hope - for only that which is attainable
- and gentle sleep without dreams.